Summer Snapshots: Morning

I, a silent old man alone at his campsite retreat, sit surrounded by the cheerful noises of young families looking prosperous, healthy, well-educated, energetic, optimistic. When I encounter them on the way to the bathroom, they smile politely.

The RVs, pickups, bikes, two-tents-per-family, camp tables, chairs, cookware, tableware, endless other family-ware, crowd like shiny, brightly colored invasive mushrooms into the clearings among the tall redwoods.

Morning comes quietly. Yellow sunlight pouring down from the tops of the redwoods washes away the grey fog, while a young Hispanic woman, looking older than her years, carrying her excess weight with resigned determination along with the mop, pail, garbage bags and cleaning supplies, washes away the evening debris from the bathrooms.

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