Peony: Glad you're feeling better!
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We never camped (I don't do well on the ground anymore, or we could have gotten away a lot cheaper).
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Raefindel: I enjoy camping, but not in a tent. I've had a pop-up camper for about 12 years now, but I prefer camping with friends in their 5th wheel. It's not really roughing it, but a/c is a must if you're camping in Texas in the summer.
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So, hmmm, does this poetry foreshadow Sunday-Silver-Arwen running off with Saturday-pottery-Aragorn? Lol!! And what was the fiddle string that broke! And who was the cow?
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Linnamalle: I always thought of it as the Sunday-Silver-Aragorn and Saturday-pottery-Arwen. (It's from Bilbo's song that Frodo sang at the Prancing Pony in Bree.)
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The downpour continued throughout the day, and the mud became so deep that walking was extremely difficult. By good fortune, we came upon another Ranger campsite late this afternoon...a small hollow with a circle of trees in the center. A small cache of dried meat and fruit with firewood (dry) had been stored at the base of the trees. We were as grateful for the wood as for the food, as we were soaked and chilled to the bone.
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- Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!