Having set up the tents, they had to decide how to spend the evening hours on their first day camping on the island. It was Friday night, and they had three days to camp before they had to go back to the hustle and bustle of city life.
They saw the large pile of underbrush they had cleared away to make space for the tents and decided that it would make an excellent bonfire. And so it did! Since the bushes and plants were still green, they didn’t light very quickly nor burn very well, but after adding some dry branches that they broke off from nearby trees, the fire picked up nicely, as they set their camp chairs around to relax and enjoy.
It was a splendid view: bright flames reaching up into the air as if dancing to nature’s music, puffs of smoke rising into the darkening night sky, little twigs and big branches bending and twisting in the heart of the flames, leaves and grasses shriveling and withering in the heat of the bonfire. Around the edges, little trails of flames kept trying to sneak away from the bonfire, following a long piece of grass or a thin branch, but they always burned out when they got to the end and couldn’t sneak any further away.
In the background, the trees were blackening, getting ready to sleep, with little bits of blue light peaking through here and there. The calm lake, disturbed only by the occasional splashing of hungry fish catching their dinner of insects, reflected the blue clouds that had kept them cool earlier that day during the hot summer heat. And all the while, the cracking and spitting noises of the fire adding a lively soundtrack to the movie they were watching.
After commenting a few dozen times about how beautiful the fire was, they eventually moved on to other lighthearted conversations. They talked a bit about how nice it was to get away. They talked a bit about what life would be like to live there every day. They talked a bit about recent events, all while the sky darkened and all they began to see was the flame-lit faces of their friends.
The darker it got, the more intimate the conversations became. They began to talk about their personalities. They started to talk about their hopes and dreams in life, and then, naturally, they commenced discussing their weaknesses and challenges that were preventing them from reaching those dreams. One shared his desire to get married, but that he didn’t get to meet anyone outside of work. One shared her hope to overcome marital challenges, as her and her husband often fought about nonsense and she couldn’t figure out why. One shared his wish to find a new job, because his current boss didn’t treat him well. One shared her dream of having children, but her husband’s desire to travel the world was getting in the way.
Though none of their problems were solved or weaknesses overcome, a growing sense of hope and courage grew in them all, and a feeling of connectedness and trust was silently rebuilt in them.
After what seemed like half an hour, but in reality had been nearly six, the pestering mosquitoes and circadian rhythm got the better of them. One commented that he was being eaten alive. Another that his eyes were closing on their own. One mentioned that she had seventy-eight bug bites. Another that she couldn’t stop yawning.
The bonfire had dwindled down to a pile of glowing embers, so they agreed to call it a night. They put out what was left of the fire with water from the lake, prepared their sleeping bags and pillows, took turns one at a time to answer nature’s call one final time just out of sight of the camp, and retired to their tents having said goodnight at least once or twice to each other person.
The sounds of crickets in the grass, wind in the leaves overhead, and overweight men snoring in nearby tents slowly drowned out the remaining thoughts and excitements of camping that were swirling around in their heads, and they were all asleep.