A Slice of Alright

What is it about camping that makes me so goofy with happiness? Is it because I get to obsessively pore over inventory lists, itineraries, menus and maps? Is it because it makes me feel resourceful and skilled beyond words that I can percolate the perfect cup of coffee over a coleman stove? Is it because I get to eat Spam, without shame? Is it because when I sit around a campfire with my little tribe and gaze up at the stars it feels like everything is okay; that we are all together down here in our little raft, drifting safely and steadily toward home?

As my five-year old said to his older brother on the drive home, "I know the secret. Well, my heart knows it, not me."