We live in the Deep South, so deep that we’re all the way down here in north Florida. We have Indian Summers that last sometimes until well into late November, and sometimes we camp even until Thanksgiving, something my family used to do when my parents were still living. 

One year we loaded up the motor home and several tents and drove to Torreya State Park west of Tallahassee. We looked forward to hiking the high steep bluffs over the Apalachicola River…
   

   

…and down into the deep ravines. 
  

Only my family didn’t call it hiking, we called it walking. I can still hear my Dad say, “Come on Cindy, let’s go for a walk”.  I think it was really designed to give my Mom some relief.

Instead, when we got to Torreya, it began to rain. And it rained, and rained, and rained. Undaunted, we took our umbrellas and walked the forest trails. We gazed at the exceptional scenic vistas. We helped Mama prepare our Thanksgiving feast.  

Daddy did his part by putting up a large tarp, attached to trees up high, covering our campfire to help keep it dry.  It also gave us enough cover to crowd our chairs in around the fire below. 

We talked and laughed, told stories, and thoroughly enjoyed our four days there. We were always joking that at least the rain soaked tarp didn’t stand much chance of catching on fire.

It was an unforgettable Thanksiving that me, my sisters, our spouses, and my cousins still love to relive through story telling.

Another time we loaded the motor home, my sister’s pop-up camper, and tents and went to a little private park on the Suwannee River north of Old Town. It was a KOA that is no longer there, but there are many other campgrounds along the long Suwannee.  

I grew up camping all along the Suwannee River. I’ve slept in tents, several times out on the boat and one night even in a hammock. I was only 14, but even then in my youth the hammock gave me a backache. Mom and Dad were always inviting friends, and we kids always drew the short straw when it came to a free bed.  

Camping on the Suwannee was magical. With over 200 springs, scads of sink holes and some of the prettiest scenery ever, there was never a dull moment.  

So my memory of the Thanksgiving near Old Town was another wonderful holiday. We walked down the sandy trails, huddled together over a campfire, and again gave thanks to God for all our blessings.   It is now another treasured part of our memory collection.

So this Thanksgivng Chuck and I will have Thanksgiving dinner with my 94-year-old uncle, whom I’m so thankful to still have and who won’t be able to get out for an outing.  But later I plan to suggest to Chuck that we make a point to take a good, long walk. I’m ready to do Thanksgivng with a walk in the woods somewhere. 
I hope wherever you plan to be that you have a wonderful Thanksgiving, too!