i have the joy of knowing a woman who falls asleep early and mostly unapologetically among her family. She’ll let herself doze off on the couch amid voices and laughter, a peaceful calm on her face. We talk about this and she professes her love for nestling into a room—complete only with good blankets—of loved ones.

When i first struck out on my own with my car, i enjoyed parking in remote spots around Maine and New Hampshire totally alone. i often wouldn’t have cell service, and i’d stay a few days then go park at a friend’s house for a while. Hitting the road this time meant considering different locales (irrelevant, it turns out) as well as parking venues specifically. Lots, rest areas, truck stops, public lands, national forests are all in play now. i talked to an experienced traveler who pointed out the ways having people nearby might feel more safe. “If there’s regular noise you can get used to it, but if you’re all alone and one other person shows up, you might wonder about them.” i have only parked totally alone a few times since.

On the road i started with parking lots, rest stops, then finally public lands in New Mexico. The last was a huge relief and i took advantage by using my tent as much as possible. i like seeing other campers from a distance. Neighbors are good.

At my current campsite, i wake up and go to sleep to chatter and laughter from the group i’m visiting. A beloved moment repeated a myriad of ways in my lifetime, all of them exciting and happy: waking up to warm conversation. There’s maybe the smell of bacon, or toast. Definitely coffee. Some of my memories feature people still partying from the night before, but more often the company simply seem happy, even if they’d rather be back in bed. In more tender memories i get orange juice, not coffee, then become impatient with adult conversation. i remember wondering who else is up, listening for birds and breakfast. Hugging pets. Cooking french toast and promising everyone that it’ll be great. Watching loved ones kiss each other bleary good mornings. Generous snuggles, grumbles, giggles.

When the voices of relative strangers waft into my tent as those of loved ones have down hallways, up stairs, under doors, through walls… when my half-awake ears hear the familiar murmur, i travel these morning memories, leaning in to their sustenance. A sweetness often overlooked, a warmth worth recognizing.