City girl goes camping

Camping, such a fun experience after all.
I hadn't been camping ever, not even in my backyard, I kind of always wanted but never had the guts to do it, go to a place without bed and sometimes without bathrooms, whaaaaat? noooooo! jajaja
So I decided to take a Nature class, in which they go camping. It is not a joke at all, but of course it is funny. Me camping? me with nature?
So the first step was taken, but there were many challenges. I had to take photos while hanging with critters, in which I conquer my fear of snakes and hold and anaconda and a python, soooooo coooool!I had to appreciate nature, I got lost while hiking by myself. Got near bear and spiders. And so the time for camping came near, and I was freaking out, I asked for help, and got many advices. But of course I didn't feel ready and I was thinking about baking up, but I was still dragged to camping.
And sooooo:
I helped build the tent I went on hikes, I meditated by the river, slept on a sleeping bag, battled food-stealing-squirrels-and-birds, saw spiders and photographed banana slugs. Cooked by the fire, and made s'mores. I didn't showered, and my hair was a mess. I didn't bring sundresses, make-up or high heels.
It was a great experience and I had so much fun, and yes at the beginning I kind of wanted to go back home, but at the end I lo ve d it, and I am looking forward to the 5 day camping trip. (this was 3 days 2 nights)
So now I can scratch that from my to-do list! and be happy!

ready or not, here we goooo!

The question is not whether camping is ready for me, but am I ready for camping???


City Girl vs. Camping Universe

יזכור יום השואה

"The Butterfly"

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .

Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly 'way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.

For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.

That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
in the ghetto.

-by Pavel Friedman

Pavel Friedman was born on January 7, 1921, in Prague and deported to Terezin on April 26, 1942. He died in Auschwitz on September 29, 1944.