The campground we chose was one in the mountains of the next state over, remote enough that we could take a walk in the woods without seeing another person unless we chose to. A creek ran through the campground, babbling in a pleasing way that satisfied something deep in us that loved nature.
We set up the tent together, a team in sync with each other, laying out the stakes, standing it up, filling it with our bags of clothes, air mattresses, and the assortment of things we’d brought to make bedtime its own adventure.
The campground office had bundles of firewood and I bought extra, piling them neatly at the side of the camp site by the fire pit while you gathered sticks and brush for kindling. Each time one of us walked past the other it was with a moment’s hesitation to lean in for a kiss and a quick butt grab before continuing on our task.