Contentment

King and I are spending a few days at a little campground just off Highway 2 on the shores of Lake Michigan. We are somewhere between St. Ignace and Naubinway. (Although this will not be posted until we get somewhere with internet – as in back at our base camp).

When I say “just off Highway 2” I mean just that. The National Forest campground is on a thin strip of land between the highway and the lake. Although we are surrounded by trees we can still hear the highway to the east and the waves on the lake to the west. (I thought, since we were in the UP, it would be to the north and south, but the compass says the lake is still to our west). I can also hear drumming and chanting. At some point I may investigate, but not tonight. Tonight I’ll just relax in my home and watch the sunset through the trees that are bathing the trailer in hues of green. It’s like I’ve painted the inside of the trailer green. (Which I wanted to do, by the way, but King preferred blue. We choose our battles, right?).

Years and years ago King and I used to come here often during the summer for tent camping. But I think it’s been at least 13 years. This is our first experience staying in the luxury of our travel trailer. I use the term “luxury” loosely, our 40-year-old trailer is quite rustic by today’s modern trailer standards. I will confess I’m always looking at new trailers online but so far, I’ve never found anything as compact, yet open and airy at his one. We may be forced to upgrade at some point, and truth be told this trailer is as heavy as some of the newer gigantic trailers you see on the road today. At just 16 feet and 5000 pounds they don’t build them like this one any longer. Thank goodness for a big truck (that, unfortunately, eats gas like I eat cotton candy).

We spent the week before driving north camping at Van Buren State Park in South Haven. It’s been a Pure Michigan experience – warm weather, warm lake, cooling breezes and lots and lots of time spent in the water.

The grandchildren visited in waves.

First our son and his family spent five days with us and then our two older grandchildren and their children (yes, we are great-grandparents) joined us for cookouts a couple of evenings. We even had a great-grand-kitten visiting.

It was reminiscent of the days when we would descend on my parents at their home in Glenn. The difference being rather than songs and smores around the campfire we had smores and Harry Potter trivia contests. King was amazed (that’s sarcasm) at our knowledge. (What was Luna Lovegood’s Patronus? What was the third challenge to retrieve the Sorcerer’s stone)?

It was an idyllic week. We collected beach glass, we watched as the kids played with abandon in the waves, we looked for granite rocks I can polish in my rock tumbler. We painted smooth, flat stones and left them at various campsites for other campers to find. We bought fudge in town, visited the Maritime Museum in South Haven and traveled to Saugatuck to climb Mount Baldhead.

And then suddenly they were gone. Headed home to finish their fleeting summer vacation (and to take real showers in bathrooms without tree frogs on the wall).

Meanwhile King and I sat by the campfire and stared at each other. So, we packed up the trailer and headed north.

We still sit at the campfire and stare at each other, but in a few days we will be joining another son and his family who are traveling North for a short vacation as well.

For now we will enjoy our solitude in our own unique way. I suppose some couples still converse after 42 years, but that’s not our style. We sit in companionable silence. Or our conversations go something like this:
 “Are you hungry?”
 “Not really.”
 “I have chicken in the refrigerator that I have to cook.”
 “Go ahead and fix it. I’ll have a little I guess.”
 Long pause in which I doze off.
 “Are you going to fix it then?”
 “Yeah, I guess so. I’m adding vegetables to it.”
“I’ll pick them out.”

 So now, dinner is finished, dishes are washed and put away, and King is sleeping. He fell asleep watching the sun as it began to set. Cindy fell asleep next to me in the front of the trailer. She is snoring quietly.

This is contentment.