It's the Simple Things in Life like where and when

It's really not summer unless you have dragged the tent out,  erected it by some stretch of water, cooked a couple of sausages by the light of a disposable BBQ, drunk some Pinot grigio chilled naturally by the water source close by. 

The evening is then completed by watching the sun set behind the hills / over the water / over the horizon, and conversation over the light of the dying embers of the BBQ. 

Conversation continues into the tent, when you realise that the warmth of the sleeping bag isn't what you remember and hanging onto each other whilst wearing every item of clothing you brought with you is the only way you are going to get through the night. 

In the morning, a second BBQ is rolled out to cook out some bacon and scones, and then the trauma of taking the tent down and trying to squeeze it in to the space it previously occupied - an impossibility.  Leave it unpacked in the bag of the car for dad to sort. 

That's what makes memories.