Camping Mourning

The End of a Season

It’s autumn which means that most campsites are closing down. Water and electricity are shut down. Every year the neighbours set up camp for two seasons. Spring and summer. They are missed when they are gone. No waving in the morning from the breakfast table. They meticulously prepare and pack at the start of the season. They do the same at the end of it. The start must be filled with an air of anticipation, of looking forward to a seemingly endless endeavor. But then it does end. The unpacking and the putting away has a very distinct energy. The neighbours walk slow, but purposefully, carrying things back inside the house. There is a sense of resignation. Or am I projecting? The house itself is covered in the giant ground covers. How dark it must be inside. For days the covers take turn, dangling from the balcony and windows like a veil. It looks like mourning.