{"id":658,"date":"2017-10-30T15:11:59","date_gmt":"2017-10-30T19:11:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/?p=658"},"modified":"2017-10-30T21:51:32","modified_gmt":"2017-10-31T01:51:32","slug":"camping-as-spiritual-practice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/camping-as-spiritual-practice\/","title":{"rendered":"Camping as Spiritual Practice"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/images-57.jpeg\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-659\" src=\"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/images-57.jpeg\" alt=\"\" width=\"324\" height=\"243\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>I camped with my daughter and twenty of her friends this weekend.<br \/>\nIt rained.<br \/>\nA lot.<br \/>\nIt was wet.<br \/>\nIt was cold.<br \/>\nIt was glorious.<\/p>\n<p>It was a smorgasbord of Holy Senses.<br \/>\nStars crisp in the night air.<br \/>\nClouds fanning like bird plumes.<br \/>\nSome trees bare, reaching heavenward,<br \/>\nsome quietly disrobing, leaves spattering colors on the forest floor .<br \/>\nAnd the quiet of rain splashing on tent top<br \/>\nor the rough and tumble of an engorged stream.<br \/>\nThe scent of coffee wafting from a camp stove,<br \/>\nChicken soup simmering in an iron pot,<br \/>\nBlending with the stench of wet dog.<br \/>\nWarm smiles curled on cold lips<br \/>\nFrosty bottoms perched on wet logs<br \/>\nGodde shared our laughter as we laughed at ourselves.<\/p>\n<p>It was wet.<br \/>\nIt was cold.<br \/>\nIt was glorious.<br \/>\nIt was my prayer of thanksgiving<\/p>\n<p>And I would do it again<br \/>\nin a heartbeat.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on the_content --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on the_content -->","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I camped with my daughter and twenty of her friends this weekend. It rained. A lot. It was wet. It was cold. It was glorious. It was a smorgasbord of Holy Senses. Stars crisp in the night air. Clouds fanning like bird plumes. Some trees bare, reaching heavenward, some quietly disrobing, leaves spattering colors on &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/camping-as-spiritual-practice\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Camping as Spiritual Practice<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[13,19],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/658"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=658"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/658\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":673,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/658\/revisions\/673"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=658"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=658"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=658"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}