The air reeked of bug spray and sweat already. My seven friends and I toiled with equipment as the sky glowed with the orange and pink fire of the setting sun. Our hands flew meticulously over our tents.
Metal clicked together and the sound of waterproof fabric ruffled through the air.
Something about camping has always made my heart feel full. Having grown-up with screens surrounding me, it’s rare that I get the chance to put them down. Down in Kentucky’s Red River Gorge, that is exactly what the eight of us did.
Huddled around our picnic table, dusk turned to darkness. The glow of screens left and the sound of our laughter filled the air.
Our conversation paused. An Eastern whip-poor-will chirped its song in the distance. Nothing else could be heard. Quiet had enveloped our camp. That was, until our laughter ejected the air from our lungs once more and into the world.
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