Invitation: To anyone who has an ounce of imagination and who is interested in the suggestion below, please join me at my campfire for a night to remember. There will be food (sausages), drinks (juice) and music (provided for...)
There might be a day when there are enough people joining a campfire. For now the fire is put out, ready to be build up another day. Until then...
Thanks Bobbler and Adera for joining the thread
Campfire at Lover’s Lake…
It’s been warm for weeks and my travels through the lands have been light and filled with sunlight and easy paths. I arrived at a lake this morning and decided to camp out here for a few days. The beaches around the dark, greenish waters are white and freckled with patches of soft, green grass. The lake is surrounded by tall trees with a wide canopy and circles in the water suggest a healthy underwater habitat.
I just love the summer. Not only because the evenings are warm and the days are long. But also because the summer favours guys. After spending half the day in a town nearby yesterday, getting some supplies for the remainder of my trip, I couldn’t help but notice the girls and women wearing their summer clothes. Long legs, running up and disappearing in short skirts and dresses, tight shirts complimenting curves of hips, sides and breasts.
There was one particular woman that caught my eye. Long black hair, a gorgeous tight dress that followed every line of her slender body. She looked at me in such a way, she set me on fire. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled, turned around and bent down to pick something up from the floor. I thought I’d almost faint. Although knowing that on my travels sex is not the first or second priority, I couldn’t help but feel some uproar in my lower stomach, stimulated by this gorgeous woman in town.
I set up camp at the foot of a huge oak, its branches spread out wide, giving some needed shade. It’s a warm day and I sweat as I set up my tent and collect fire wood. I set out some fishing lines in the water, and as the sun starts to set, I pull them in. Two nice pike struggle as I pull them to shore. I clean them and get them ready to be cooked. When arriving at my new campsite, I discovered a fireplace with still smouldering embers and will gladly use those as a starter for my own fire. It also means that the lake is visited at night, even last night.
The lake seems perfect for skinny dipping and with it’s moss-covered niches between the trees, the place has “Lover’s Lane” written all over it. But for now, my growing passion will have to wait, dinner first. I start a fire with some small twigs and build it up slowly with bigger twigs and branches until there is a nice thick layer of smouldering embers underneath the flaming logs. It’ll keep burning for a while as I strip down and take a quick bath in the lake.
As I return to the fire, I pull the hot stones from the embers and lay them underneath and on top of the wrapped fish and cover them with moss and sand. As they sizzle and cook in the heat, I dry myself at the fire before slipping into some clothes. The sun has almost set completely and the shadows of the flames dance across my face as I eat my dinner. After cleaning up my plate in the lake, I go back to the fire and grab my old, trusted guitar. She’s not in the best shape as she was before, but the chips and scars in her body give her a very characteristic, melancholic sound.
She accompanied me on every step of my travels, helped me pour my heart out whenever I needed it, and helped me express my biggest joy through her strings. She’s as loyal to me as I am to her. As I gently start stroking her tightly wound strings, her curves gently held in my lap, I suddenly hear footsteps and voices through the trees. I hear branches snapping under feet as the voices come closer. I wonder who it could be, anyone’s welcome at this fire...
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