I've missed living in my tent. When I did I was ruled not by a work schedule but by the moon cycles and shifting storms, by drought and the summer constellations. Whatever we wanted to do we could-- as long as the earth was willing. In the desert one time, we spent hours under a mushroom rock when a thunderstorm hit and turned everything around us into waterfalls.
In the city, it's hard to keep the lesson from that monsoon. We are always scheduled and essentially impervious to nature (other than our sometimes leaky ceiling). So, we went camping in the Appalachian foothills with some friends to remember again.
We gathered morels, which tasted unreal, and collected cleavers, sticking the stems and leaves to our shirts as we found them. I love their design-- intensely sticky barbs and a shallow root system so that anything that passes them by picks up the entire plant, roots and all. Cleavers is an awesome tonic for the lymphatic system and tastes pretty good as a tea. I made a lymphatic massage oil with the cleavers for a friend who is a massage therapist after hearing about it from the herbalist I work for.
When I woke up in the tent I didn't move or open my eyes. I had never heard so many birds singing at once and wanted to take in every bit of it that I could. Were there dozens? hundreds? And there were no sounds other than the birds. It was perfect.
Though, we did find ticks on our bodies... surprisingly always after we had done "thorough" tick checks. When we got home I immediately put together a general bug spray that I hope will also keep ticks away. I'll be trying it out this weekend when I go to the Smoky Mountains with some other friends. I can't stay in one place now that the weather is nice again.