I purposely slept late one morning — no alarm, no plans. When I wandered outside, the world was lazy: soft birdsong, humid air, pale sunshine. We made brunch: huevos con chorizo, warmed corn tortillas, and a fruit medley (mango, pineapple, strawberries).
Late morning, we headed into Mission to the local farmers’ market. We picked up fresh tomatoes, peppers, avocados, baked goods, and honey. We returned to the park and ate a picnic under an oak.
Through the afternoon, I read a novel in the shade, took midday naps, and dipped in the resort pool. Several friendly campers strolled by and greeted us.
At dusk, I built a modest fire (per park rules), and we roasted hot dogs and made s’mores. The flames danced; shadows flickered on RV sides. We lingered late, sipping cocoa, comparing shooting star sightings.
This kind of unhurried day is magical — you do nothing, yet feel full.