Bass Creek Camping – October 2014 – Part 3

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Campfire in the morning

Sunday October 12:  Wake up early; too dark to sit out, so I make mint tea and sit inside to read “A New Earth” until it is light enough to head outside to make a campfire.  The wood under the pull-outs is a bit wet, but the wood under the tarp is good and dry, so I soon have a cheery fire going. The way Tolle explains some concepts in “A New Earth” helps me to make sense of the lessons from “A Course in Miracles” which were not resonating with me.  A different way of looking at things can be very good.

Bass Creek 1_G12 092 Bass Creek 1_G12 094Ang and Oden come

about 11:30 and we

have time to do a

walkabout taking

photos of raindrop

on leaves and

other delightful

after-rain images.

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Give her a camera and a cup of coffee…. and she is all set!

Then we head out to see my sister, Lillian, who lives about 10 miles outside of Stevensville on the other side of the Bitterroot valley.  As we look back, we can see snow on the mountain tops on the western range.  We have a nice visit with Lillian; I let her know that I have been to a doctor for the first time in about 20 years and that there are some health issues going on.

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Lillian, Carol, Ang

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Oden displaying 12-year-old dorkiness

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Lillian’s driveway

From the eastern side of the valley where she lives, we have a clear view of the snowy mountains to the west, so more photos are taken as we head back to the campground.

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Across the Bitterroot Valley – we are camped over there

Back at the Pony, after Ang and Oden leave, I do some editing and read portions of the journal from 1979 to 1980.  There was an entry regarding a conversation Katie and I had regarding priests and bishops, and how bishops could tell the priests where they had to go.  Katie, who was four years old at the time, totally got the idea and decided that she would be a bishop when she grows up so she can tell people what to do.  It was really quite delightful, the best part of the whole 6-month journal, and it made her day when I sent it as a text to her. No campfire tonight as it is a bit chilly this evening and more comfortable inside, even though I struggle to read by the available light.

Monday October 13:  Wake up early with leg cramps, but luckily I am able to go back to sleep and get up after daylight to go out build a campfire.  I make tea and as I get settled by the fire to read, the tea spills and I have to go back inside to make a new cup.  Clifford is up and we have a discussion about the pan that needs replacing, which gets me thinking about what I have been reading about ego  – is my suggestion to use more butter in the pan merely a suggestion or is it my ego coming forward to say I know better than someone else how to use the pan.  There are definitely some grey areas here. I do a walkabout looking at the other campsites, gather wood, and explore the woods which are enchanted, I’m quite sure.

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Enchanted woods

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Old school cello is camping cello

Mild temperatures and sunshine in the afternoon gives me the opportunity to play the cello again today.I am not very satisfied with this cello, not liking the sound of the A-string or 4th position, both of which are used all the time.  It creates a quandry for me – how to go camping AND have a pleasing instrument to play.  Haven’t felt like playing the flute because the higher registers are not appealing to me.  Oh well……

And so goes the day. Later in the afternoon the picnic table at the vacant site next to us is still in the sunlight, and I move down there to continue writing in my journal until the sunlight is overtaken by shadow. Before the sun sets behind the mountain, the last rays hit the young aspen grove on the hillside across the meadow from where we are camped.  What a wonderful burst of color.

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Last glow of light on the aspens

Back at our spot, I build another great campfire and sit out editing until it is too dark to see.  As the fire dies down, I leave the embers to glow while I go inside to join Clifford and make us a tasty dinner.   After dinner, I make notes in a word document from the old journal.  Not sure I want or need to save the old journal once that is done.  I had written down many dreams that might be of interest, but maybe not worth keeping, either.  If I was going to learn from them, it should have have been then. Head to bed, thinking how much different my life is now.  The struggles of that period of my life are far behind me.  How joyful it is now to be camping, drinking a morning cup of coffee or tea by a campfire, having the day to read, write, or walkabout taking photos, and quiet evenings with Clifford.  My kids are grown and are people I enjoy spending time with.  Life is good.

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