Great photograph. It's always love at first sight when kids meet tents.
And the warning of our parents: don't touch the fibre of the tent when it is raining - by that the rain will come through... and the weird feeling in the cheeks when one had blown-up an air mattress with one's breath...( and if one had too much air in the pillow - hard to get the bung out - and then: phhhtt - too much air out, can feel the underground, start again) But I think it's the smells that are bringing remembrance back in a whiff...
We had a seasonal (hired) tent on the beach at Margate and I can still smell the paraffin cooking ring!
Pitter patter of rain on the tent......Early morning chill...
Ha, ha. I slid down a wet field in Switzerland inside my dad's old army tent with my parents running behind screaming..."Unzip!"I loved the smells and looking at the stars, collecting mushrooms. My dad knew them all.The rain is still one of my favourite sounds.
Burnt baked potatoes in the fire...how far does the torch shine?
Watch out for the slugs..the sand in the mussels, bad tempered sheep. Ah but the hiss of the gaslight. Falling off the top bunk in a caravan and not even waking up...parents shouting "Please, please wake up!"
Cows that think tents are edible
That is so small tent! I bring my small tent too, with my bike.^^