8/26, no. 21

premise: as much as I loved backpacking, it's evidently not a huge part of my life (it was merely an incredibly significant three-day trip in my thousands of days in my life), and as such I do not necessarily gloat/dwell on every cherished memory of the experience all the time.

but there is one aspect in particular that was sort of neat: the vivid dreams. my leaders and my fellow backpackers attested to this; they all maintained that during every night of every camping/overnight hike of theirs, they've all had extremely vivid dreams. now I've awoken in cold sweats of fear and apparently I've laughed a few times in my sleep - but there was really nothing like this. maybe it was the heightened emotions surrounding my sleep - the fear of sitting around in the absolute dark with nothing but trees and logs and rocks and bushes to seemingly protect you, the spectacular view of the stars, so clear and close in the night-time sky, the constancy of the river, so full of life, which never slept, and waking up to fresh, cold air and drinking out of the lively river and a forest with light streaking through every small gap between all the forestry. I don't know what it is, but those dreams seemed so long, graphic, lifelike...I don't know if it's something I'll necessarily miss, but I do know that it's another interesting benefit of sorts to overnight backpacking.