Some of my most treasured memories from childhood involve going to the local campground (Spook Cave in the house!) to tramp through the low-hanging trees and pokey trails, play on ancient playground equipment and set up our worn orange pup tent for a night filled with owl hoots and the sound of far-off trains. All of this was preceded, of course, by the construction of a ramshackle campfire, making s’mores with marshmallows and a jumbo bar of Hershey’s, creating shadow plays on the tent’s glowing walls and catching fireflies in the dark. These recollections make my summer.
Annnnd, I couldn’t mention camping without bringing up the time that my sister accidentally peed while going down the slide at the campsite. (Sorry, Jasmine, but the abrupt switch in your pants in all of the photos from that trip is goddamn hilarious to this day.)