colorful things, and nostalgia

This sunrise greeted me this morning. I love sunrises.

I went to the woods to scout out some more young Chinquepin Oak trees and noticed the lovely red of the sumac.

Then I saw our old camper and began to wax nostalgic; the older I get, the more easily this "waxing" becomes. Just to let you know how easily my mind wanders, after typing that sentence I had to go to an online dictionary and see why anybody would use the word "wax" in that manner:
wax² (wăks)
intr.v., waxed, wax·ing, wax·es.

1. To increase gradually in size, number, strength, or intensity.
2. To show a progressively larger illuminated area, as the moon does in passing from new to full.
3. To grow or become as specified: “could afford … to wax sentimental over their heritage” (John Simon).

[Middle English waxen, from Old English weaxan.]

But I digress.

Since we've been riding motorcycles, we seldom use the pop-up camper. Cliff got it out last year thinking we'd sell it on Craigslist, but the memories got to him and he just couldn't. And he's the guy that doesn't really like to camp! After another year of the camper being unused, he's decided we really do need to let it go. He mentioned it at work and a fellow there said he'd take it in a couple of weeks.

So we're going through it today and removing anything we might want to keep.

We sure had some good times in that thing.