On Tuesday, we were sugar addicts pulled over to the side of the road, licking the last few teaspoons of our pint-sized carton of ice cream, wistfully dreaming of more.
On our last trip day, we did things we’ve tasted before.
Clear skies mirrored in clear water.
Acrylic paintbrushes dabbing expertly on blank canvases. Soft waves hitting pebbled shores, the sun a welcome condiment to the slight breeze.
By now, we are all familiar, friendly faces. Which is to say, familiar enough to share germs with. Re: original ice cream analogy. If you insist, call us family.
Because we’re talking straight out of the carton here. Yes double dips.
Now think of the feeling you get when you’re halfway through an ice cream carton and then, suddenly, you’re scraping the bottom and wondering where the time went.
This is where things get a little drippy (the tears and the ice cream).
Wednesday marked The End and Tuesday was just barely piggybacking and we felt the bottom slice of cardboard whenever we dug too deep.
Tuesday was sweet, sappy, and completely serene.
When we left, our sweet tooth was clawing at us for more. A cozy bus ride home managed to subdue its nagging voice until Wednesday forecasted Suitcases with a chance of Banquet.
Try barring him from the weather channel now. Wifi is everywhere, dear Practical Mind, and every bone in our bodies ached with the knowledge: This was the last page.
Of the greatest story we’d ever lived through.
But some family
(and scholarly)
photos later: There’s always next year.
Uncampers don’t say goodbye. We say, See you later.
See you next year for Volume 2.