He found a flat spot on the road, yes, right in the middle of the road. No cars would come, there were no tracks he pointed. We were far away from the nearest campground where he was sure a million boy scouts were swapping campfire stories. I looked up and saw the big dipper staring at me. I would close my eyes that night with that picture in my head. We didn't need a tent and we would be plenty warm in his special down feather sleeping bag.
He helped me get into it and showed me how to close it around my face. Mind you, I know how to do that, but Mike seemed intent on teaching me anyway. I let him. Soon I was warm and very impressed at this awesome sleeping bag.
He said he would sleep right next to me so I wouldn't be afraid. Somehow I still was, but I didn't let it get the best of me. I prayed the bears would stay away from our open camp just this one night. I looked up once again and the magic of the night overwhelmed my senses. I fell asleep without knowing.
Those who visit foreign nations, but associate only with their own country-men, change their climate, but not their customs. They see new meridians, but the same men; and with heads as empty as their pockets, return home with travelled bodies, but untravelled minds.
ReplyDeleteFlights to Hong Kong