Dances of the Wood Nymphs

Whenever we have to make a longish drive, I always wish for cool overcast weather-it's easier on the eyes. Wish granted. The drive went by quickly; tent set-up was accomplished in no time at all, and we were on to party preparations-picking wildflowers, setting table, watching best buddy fashion a disco ball from a beach ball and solar rope lights while absorbing the sounds and smells of the lake and the woods. On the menu: blackened fish, jerk fish, slaw, salads and peach cobbler. We ate, made mojitos, danced, made more mojitos and hit the tents at a reasonable hour- right after midnight, in fact.

That's our little white tent tucked away in the back - o- -, cradled by towering pines, set up on a thick bed of pine needles. At night, the scritching and scratching of small night creatures around the tent keep us awake for about two minutes before blissful sleep descends, brought on by large doses of fresh air and the soothing sound of lapping waves. In the morning, we are brought back to the land of the waking by either the jays and crows or a very full bladder and the sounds of other tent zippers being opened.