Dappled woods

I wrote a tiny poem for my friend once about their place on the lake and the only part I can remember is "wrapped in a cloak of dappled woods." It's how I feel when I sit on the bench by the fire and look east.

The tall woods that enfold their campsite are dense and in the early morning hours, the sun breaks through the canopy in a riot of beams that dance and break up if there's a breeze. It is very much like being wrapped in a light airy cloak of greenest green.

I've dedicated all three camping blips to some of the things I love the most about being here.

cozy fires

clear water