The tent experience

There’s something special about waking up in a tent, with only a layer or two of canvas between you and the great outdoors. Part of that experience is what you hear… and what you don’t.

The sound of rain on the canvas… the steady patter of the raindrops hitting the rain fly…
…or the sounds of the rain being thrown down splotchily from above with force, smacking into the canvas …. and you know you’re going to need to go out there pretty soon…

A breath of wind sending a ripple across the fabric of your tent fly….
also sounding a lot like the skittering of teeny tiny feet on the surface of the tent…
you have to really listen hard … is it the wind or is it teeny tiny feet?

Or the wind slamming against the canvas, trying its best to get through to you.
It might be a bit of a wrestle to get the tent down today.

The laugh of a kookaburra… the morning sounds of birds…

The gentle lapping of early morning waves on a sandy seashore…

The crowing of a rooster, dna bound to wake the world before daybreak..  the baaing of little lambs, the lowing of cattle, or the steps of a horse meandering past on a station stay…

The hopping steps of a kangaroo family as they pass by your camp.

Or the silence of nothingness.

What do you do?

Snuggle back down under your warm and toasty bedding for a little longer …

or…

Sit up, unzip a window and look out and what the morning brings…

…or maybe a bit of both.

Unzip a window and snuggle back down and watch the morning rise.