Last weekend my husband and I took the kids camping. It was delightful. There were trees, running water, shade and cooler temperatures.

We had a grand time! The kids were in their element playing in the dirt, collecting their treasures (rocks and sticks) and marveling over the wildflowers.

My son practiced (and practiced and practiced...) the fine art of skipping rocks.

He was much better at rock splashing than rock skipping.

At ranch headquarters, where we live, the fields that aren't under irrigation are turning brown. Fire season has begun. We keep an eye out for lightening storms which often lead to smoke on the horizon. We talk about our fire plan: buildings or haystacks that are particularly vulnerable to fire and where the Cat is currently parked in case we need to start making fire lines.

So, to be on the mountain amidst all of this beautiful green was a wonderful mini-vacay for us. We played in the water, found beauty in ordinary rocks and stopped to smell the flowers, so to speak. We didn't relax completely though. My husband I could often be seen glancing at the sky watching for gathering storm clouds; always looking for plumes of smoke.