My blueberries were rotten this morning. I bought them yesterday, carefully scoping out the packages for one that looked good, but it was wasted effort. They were tasteless, some already soft and squishy. I didn’t see any positive signs of mold, but I was highly suspicious.
I decided to take it as a sign from the universe.
The reason I was looking for signs was this:
That is literally the view from the window by my bed. To say that it makes me cranky would be an understatement. To say that it makes Zelda uneasy would also be an understatement. I am fairly sure she can hear the hum of the lines, especially at night when they sizzle a little because of the moisture in the air. She wanted to go out over and over and over again last night, but every time I took her out, she wanted to stand and stare into the darkness.
It was pretty impressive darkness, actually — fireflies, a full moon, stars. I should give credit where it is due!
But this campground is one designed for family parties with lots of kids in tents. My site has the most extreme slope of any site I’ve ever tried to park on, so much so that my water jug actually slowly slid off the counter last night and landed on the floor. A tent camper might be able to find a slightly level patch, or a big trailer with levelers might be able to cope, but for me, it’s quite unpleasant. Plus, it’s in full sunlight — no shade at all, just a grassy patch — and it’s supposed to go up to 96 degrees today. The van is going to be an oven.
All that added up to me trying to decide what I wanted to do this morning. I’ve hated looking for campgrounds in Michigan. There’s a specific campground layout — straight lines all in rows — that after two years of camping makes my lips curl back in distaste. Give me some nice cul-de-sacs any day.
I’m also extremely wary of big campgrounds — once you’ve got 150 campsites all lined up in rows, you’re basically looking at traffic, people, crowds, noise, barking dogs… I think for the people with boats and kids, it can still be a nice way to vacation, but I’m not on vacation. I’m looking for quiet campsites, privacy, solitude, and beautiful views. I love the trees and the birds and the starry nights, but I don’t need good places to let the kids run around with their cousins while the grown-ups sit by the fire and drink beer. The Michigan State Parks — at least the ones with availability for people who don’t plan their destinations six months in advance — have all looked like family vacation spots, not comfortable writing nests.
And meanwhile, I have a comfortable writing nest. One that comes with fresh blueberries, excellent company, lots of privacy, and the chance of fun with my niece. Oh, and where my electricity is given to me freely instead of costing me $28/night.
The only problem with it is that it’s 10 hours away.
I think, therefore, that I should stop writing and get on the road. The universe, after all, gave me lousy blueberries this morning and the message came in loud and clear.