And we’re back, in the car again.

I didn’t want to wake anyone up. They all seemed so tuckered and peaceful, scattered throughout the tent, but we had a 2-3 hour drive to get started, and we were already running a bit late.

So we knuckled the sleep from our eyes and found some breakfast (chick-fila), then headed out.

It was a perfect day.

Not many friends can reunite with such ease and familiarity, but it always seems to happen with the Beards. Our kids take a few hours to figure each other out, but the adults dive in and let loose. And I love it. And I miss it.

Turkey Run is filled with such deep-rooted memories and feels from the better days of childhood, and over the years it (and Brown County) have held a sort of mist above all other campsites. Sharing it now, with some of my dearest friends, climbing through simple canyons filled with gentle streams, listening to our kids laugh play, and watching my little Z entrust herself fully to “Uncle Beard” as he launches her into the deeper side of the river fills my heart with such something that I find myself thinking, “is this what my dad felt, so many years ago?”

I hope so, because it’s something akin to peace and a bit like perfect joy.

Which is probably why he came back, year after year, even when times were tough or work demanding. Because we - and he - needed it.

And for that, I am so grateful. Because it brought my kids here, many years later, on a hot day in late June, to meet some of my dearest friends, to swim in cool, murky rivers, and to throw aerobes under hot summer suns. To create new memories. And to rekindle old friendships.

Day 4 was a good day.

(Judah and I are journaling our summer travels. His is coming soon. Mine is here! I think my little sister Selah will be joining soon, so there will be more to come in the near future.)

Thanks for reading!!!