Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.

Once upon a time (as aforementioned in a previous blog post) Damien and Riley rode a bus from Salt Lake City, to Alabama, to New Orleans, and then to me. The reason why they were willing to make the trek north to Massachusetts: a pond called Walden, a man named Thoreau, and a dream of camping on those transcendental grounds. While that didn't happen, we did wander the woods at midnight without light, which was quite an adventure in itself. Our friend and guide Mike was kind enough to drive us, and had been to Walden at night many times before. However, he had never before led the way, and so we struggled to find a secret side path that we could not see. The boys told scary jokes that did not seem funny at the time, and made me terrified of being in the very back. Eventually we decided to turn around, and retrace our steps through the darkness where we would wait for another car that was thankfully on its way. These friends had no pretenses of taking a side route, and so it was easy then, to take the normal path. We still hid from every car, harboring the slight fear that we would be caught. Mainly because Mike always is. The water was cold, but refreshing. More jokes were told, but they were funnier this time, when we were no longer in the woods.