I could just as easily sum up last night and this morning with a long, contented sigh, but that’s not as much fun.

Yesterday afternoon Sherri and I cooked up a last-minute camping trip after talking about going out to watch the Perseids from our land like we did the Leonids last November. But instead of just a bonfire and some marshmallows and then home, we decided to stay the night and have dinner out there, because for the first time in awhile we had nowhere else to be, nothing else to do.

And if I do say so myself, you could a whole lot worse than camping with the four of us. We had beer and margaritas and fuzzy navels, we had rotisserie chicken over the open fire, we had roasted potatoes and garlic and peppers, we had fire-roasted biscuits. And we had a few stray but blazing and beautiful Perseids shooting through the sky, one of them slicing directly through the moon. Can’t beat that.

This morning we woke up to bright, golden sun on the grasses and mountain, and a breakfast of scrambled eggs, pancakes, coffee and orange juice. Lounged around in the sun awhile before eventually packing up and coming home.

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It rarely fails. We head out for somewhere around here to hang for a little while, we just need a little fresh air and sun, and then we’ll come right back to work. And then we end up going farther and for longer than we meant to.

This time we wound up in Monument Lake shortly before sunset, about 90 minutes from here beyond La Veta and the Cuchara Valley and the Spanish Peaks. We nuked a pizza at the general store then took it out and sat on the red rocks and sand for a late picnic until it got near dark.

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