Why does it always rain on me?
Getting back out there into the wilds of British weather one more time. Camping always seems to be such a mix of horror and joy; the horror of the physical adjustment to the real elements and relative discomfort compared urban apartment lifestyle.
It was lovely go away with a bunch of guys who knew each other pretty well on the whole. We had a little community there for a few days which fun
ctioned pretty well. Trying to organise nine people to leave at the same time to go on a walk is a bit of challenge; usually the only person I have to organise is myself. I liked the practice I had in putting common welfare before my own. Interestingly, this community exists anyway in the fellowship of sobriety operating remotely by means of technology; if it weren'tr operating in the background it would not be able to spring to life fully-functioning within a few hours of all the participants arriving.Then coming back to the city is a bit of a shock for a number of reasons. Among them are going back to to a state of 'apartment' as opposed to sharing space as well as feeling the roots connecting me to the natural world retracting up into me like a snails antlers.
When the sun shines, camping is the inevitable and logical holiday choice and always will be. After three days of rain, it is another character building test putting the relative physical comfort into perspective. I am all for character building and just glad that holidaying in the UK offers such persistent opportunities for such growth
It was nice to see friends coming out of themselves too. Personalties and characters seemed softer and truer somehow framed against a backdrop of green and grey. I feel hope strengthened espeically by the prospect of getting back out there again ASAP.
It is a beautiful world in spite of the pain.
