Summer’s end, under the madrone

 

Summer’s end. My nights of sleeping under the madrone tree have come to an abrupt end. I’m drenched with fog & bathed in the odor of petrichor. Hard to tell whether it was fog or rain, everything was drenched—my car, my sleeping bag, the tarp. Where I lay my head these days is always a bit impromptu. So much depends upon whether or not I am visiting my cousin, whether or not we decide to have wine, etc. There is no room for me in the old house. So, last weekend, we erected a tent of sorts for me to sleep in. Actually it’s a summer gazebo with mosquito netting. No walls. However, last night the fog again turned into rain so I had to sleep jackknifed in my car because no way was I going to get up at 3 AM and drag all my stuff up the hill in order to sleep under the gazebo. Soon I will give it a test run. It will be an interesting experiment as to how comfortable it is as the season draws in. I don’t think it will be rain proof. I will need a Plan B later. I do love sleeping under the madrone but it’s also uncomfortable on my thin strip of memory foam. I need more padding, my hips hit the ground when I sleep on my side. Still, I am blessed to sleep under the canopy of this old tree.