“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” -L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

This past weekend was one bursting with firsts. First bachelorette party. First night spent in a pop-up camper. First pumpkin spice latte of the season.

I traveled down again to Ohio, this time for my college roommate’s bachelorette party. I enjoyed this roadtrip much more than the last, as I took an alternate, and drastically more scenic, route to maneuver around D.C’s Friday, rush-hour traffic. The road was arched with tree branches for almost one-third of the trip and I even got to drive over an old bridge, buried deep in darkened woods, at one point. Combined with my Anne’s House of Dreams audiobook playing in the background, my imagination and soul were quite satisfied.

Once I made it to my destination, the party began. We were to stay in one of the other bridesmaids’ pop-up camper, which was set up and ready to go the day before, at Kiser Lake State Park. We arrived and began to set up our camping chairs, our makeshift pantry and fridge, and decorations. Before long, we were settled in as if we’d been there eternally.

The beauty of the park and the weather did seem to halt Time and Cares at some unforeseen border, forbidding their entry into our hallowed place. They were quite forgotten and not soon missed.

So, thus, Camp I Do was born.

(isn’t it darling, trash bag and all?)

One of our activities was creating real-life flower crowns! One of the beautiful (and frankly, lucky) things about my and Em’s friendship is that we find thrilling joy in so many similar things. These flower crowns were not exempt.

My favorite thing, though, was that we each created distinctly different adornments, despite working with the very same materials. How lovely is it, as my great-aunt Betty Sue says, that it takes many types of people to make a world!

(I’m the four-eyed, blue bird in the back)

We strolled along, with mugs and mason jars of coffee in tow, down the main road of the state park until we came upon a playground. On its outskirts, we planted ourselves and began to relish in the past, both shared and separate, as the sun shone and sank lazily. Em’s two other bridesmaids grew up with her in middle/high school, so I got to envision her in years before I knew her through the tales of her childhood friends. It was endearing and incredibly hilarious.

We then were drawn back to our campsite and began to build a fire. After gathering different sizes of sticks and kindling, we began to birth flickering, flitting, feeble flames. However, we soon came to learn (through a well-meaning neighbor) that it was, in fact, illegal to scavenge for wood in a state park. Whoops. They sweetly supplied (and spared us the possibility of entanglement with the law) several large pieces of firewood and before long, our partly-illegal fire was born and welcomed into our little haven.

Later that evening, after cooking foil-dinners, we were approached again by our neighbors, who generously gave us packets that turned the fire different colors. We were all entranced and giddy over our “unicorn fire”. Pictures followed closely behind.

It was a weekend that I will cherish dearly for a long time. It was a sweet celebration of Emily and the approaching season of her marriage. The counted days are now tauntingly low and it was in this weekend, I tasted that truth.

It tasted sweet with nostalgia and the gladness a kindred spirit has for another, whose awaited dream is becoming fulfilled. A note of the tang of loss did lie in it, but so it does in all endings. I will savor it tenderly.

(Along with the burning desire to buy a pop-up camper)

 

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