Lunch on the road; today an extra large tin of beef soup as we skipped lunch yesterday. The road's completely concealed by a thick strip of trees as we sit on the track opposite our van as it cools off in the shade. It ticks quietly to itself.
Birds and flies and the quiet hiss of the gas stove are the only sounds bar the occasional roar of a vehicle on the road, bringing with it a cool wind that rustles the leaves. The food tastes good, wet and filling, always better when you're hungry. It smells different when cooked outside too, more wholesome somehow, the fresh scent of plants and occasional scent of gas mix together; a smell of camping. I'm bare chested again, sun hot on my skin and wind cooling me simultaneously.
