Almost Heaven - National Parks Trip Part One

Finding fireflies and religion from West Virginia to Indiana

I’m currently sitting in a family campground in Michigan City, Indiana, watching children chase fireflies in a little playground by the pool. I’m not typically a huge fan of these types of KOA-esque stays. I don’t understand RV culture. My idea of camping usually involves quiet solitude and lots of nature, not a heated swimming pool, plastic playground equipment, fireworks, zipping golf carts, or the music I can hear emanating from the Thor motorcoach parked three slots down from my tent.

Meadow Creek Campground at New River Gorge National Park

I spent last night in a primitive campsite in West Virginia’s New River Gorge National Park. It was everything this space isn’t - quiet, dark, secluded. I ate grilled cheese I toasted over the Coleman stove while I watched the sunset as swallows zipped and dived. And then, as darkness draped over the meadow like a blanket and stars began twinkling their way into their spots in the night sky, the landscape lit up with thousands of twinkling fireflies.

It felt like religion.

As John Denver so eloquently sang, West Virginia is “almost heaven.”

Last night feels like it could have been a thousand years ago instead of the 523 miles I’ve traveled today.

Penny checks out the New River (which is actually one of the oldest rivers in the world, with estimates of its age ranging from 10 to 375 million years.)

I’ve traded ancient, rolling Appalachia for Indiana’s endless flat fields of corn. Instead of the quiet solitude I generally prefer, five little girls are twirling in the grass of the play area just across the gravel drive, shouting out numbers as they gently scoop lightning bugs into their cupped hands. I am so happy they are here in numbers — both the barefooted children and the flashing fireflies. The girls are squealing in delight, dancing through this glimmering summer evening.

I think I will step out from behind this laptop's unnatural glow and join them in their revelry. Because, honestly, this feels like religion, too.

New River Gorge