Little Nick
There’s a bend in the river where the water lingers deep and still, where fish scull slowly in eddies and the water beckons for chilly plunges. On the rocky shore a fire warms little Nick and I, sitting on our logs, sipping our hot chocolate and savouring our time–father and son camping out for the first time. . . Far from society, stars in the sky, wind blowing through the trees, river bubbling and gentle sounds of bears and deer passing through the forest around us.
Many years have passed since this moment and the boy is now a young man. . . but I cling to my moments of reading bedtime stories before dozing off after weary days of logging road travel and exploring riverbeds for traces of gold.
Each year thereafter held a new adventure. . . Sometimes by VW van, sometimes by Helijet, but always a chance to share some time and create good memories. . .
Good to have those memories of great father and son “camping trips”. . . Thanks Nick!
