Calm before the storm.

Lately, I've been compelled to spend more time in the out of doors, whether it be camping or hiking. I'm lucky to be surrounded by a few who feel the same way. They don't need a lot of begging when it comes to returning to nature.

On Friday night, the pull took four of us (Dallas, Linda, Britta and moi) to Diamond Fork. It meant a lot of staring at the new reds and oranges and yellows that are the Fall colors, hiking towards the infamous Spanish Fork hot springs and flailing around in the alternately hot and warm waters until the moon was bright enough for us to walk back. There were vegetable tinfoil dinners (yams and tarragon go together splendidly), four and a dog in a 2-3 man tent and a shooting star. There were full stomachs. There was laughter and chit-chat. There was joy in huge pillows and being-newly-broken-in sleeping bags.

When I think back on this quick camping trip, though, the image I'll hold onto most is this: Dallas is talking Linda into telling him a story in Spanish, as he fully believes it'll allow him to fall sleep. The zipper on our tent/cave is broken, which means I'm staring straight into 3/4 of a full moon, wondering if it'll keep me up. Britta is to my right, completely mummified in a sleeping bag and Michelin Man coat, as she has a terrible fear of coyotes ... and we can hear them nearby, howling away like sirens. This ... this is all I remember before falling fast asleep. My night light didn't keep me up at all.

Now I smell of sulfur at home, having escaped the weatherman's "70% chance of rain" in the nick of time. The rain is falling outside and it smells crisp and glorious. I am completely at peace. This has been the most right way in my mind to welcome in the Fall Equinox.

So there. Welcome. (And, for more, better photos on this excursion, check out Dallas' blog by clicking HERE.)

I call this one "Breath Check."