Play an instrument around a campfire

“Many evenings were spent sitting around an open fire playing guitar and singing. We had fun in our own back yard. We’ve now been on the road permanently since late 2020 and hope to keep going for another 2 years or more. When I chatted to a local friend about our plans, he said with the guitar we’ll be popular on the road. I wasn’t really sure what he meant, as time has gone on, we’ve had some great camping experiences thanks to the guitar. Much of the time I’m playing around our campsite on my own. Then some magical / impromptu moments come along that are most enjoyable. One time, in a state forest, I played guitar in the afternoon outside our camp while a group of young rock climbers set up camp on the other side of a dirt road. One of them came over, complimented my playing and asked if I’d mind coming to their campfire to play some songs. Those sort of requests never harm one’s ego. Another time, I was playing on my own in the camp kitchen and I heard a voice behind me say “That sounds pretty good”. When I turned around it was a young boy, barely a teenage. Soon he had another 4 or 5 of his mates show up along with 3 dads and we had a great sing along. Ghost riders on the storm was a hit the the young boys enthusiastically making cowboy hoot and holler noises. One of the dads shook my hand at the end saying it was part of an annual father son weekend that they’ll remember for a long time.”

“One night I was playing Piano Man at our picnic table: guitar, voice and harmonica. James was already asleep in his Coleman popup tent. I had just finished the last verse when a young lady ( Maja 33 ) walked up out of the darkness to my table. “Hello the campfire?” “Hi.” “Do I know you?” “Probably not, I don’t know anyone here.” “Was that you playing Piano Man?” “Uh, maybe?” “Well it sounded really good!” “Ok, that was me. Oh, you brought a flute!” “Yes, I’m not very good though, but I love to play.” “Well shoot, let’s play something!” “I would love that. I’m taking a break from working. I was walking to the rest room and heard you and had to come over, you sounded great!” “Oh, thank you so much for saying that!” She saw I had the music for In Spite of Ourselves, by John Prine and asked if we could play it. The conversation continued along with several other songs she picked from my iPad collection. I told her how I thought my voice was bad and she said I was wrong and had a lovely voice. Boy, I really needed to hear that. [...] These were very philosophical thoughts for a dark and windy night around the campfire. I played a few more of my standards, letting my voice and harp ring out as best I could.”