The Camping Outfitter

Some of my fondest memories from childhood involve the time my family spent camping together.  Once a year or so, we could sneak away to the woods and make believe we were the only people in the world.  It was just us, a tent, and the great outdoors.  We had the freedom to go wherever we wanted; we could splash in rivers or just lie on our backs and look up at the magnificent night sky stretched out above us like a handful of glitter thrown onto a piece of velvet, taking a trailer tent.
If I ever have children of my own, I intend to take them camping.  I would teach them the same lessons of self-sufficiency that my parents taught me years ago.  Perhaps one day I will be the one dunking little feet in the river or gently slipping a frog into chubby little hands.  And then, hopefully, my child will feel the same sense of wonder about camping that I do.