I grew up camping in a old military tent, it was huge, green and the canvas so thick you had to use a lantern in the middle of the afternoon to see inside. I can remember laying inside trying to take a nap staring at the ceiling and watching sunlight trying to penetrate the canvas, the ceiling resembled a planetarium with sunlight poking through pin holes. The smell is also something I'll never forget. It smelled like, well it smelled like camping. That tent shielded our family from Sierra thunderstorms at 10,000 feet. My mom used to read stories to us by flashlight as the lighting and thunder peeled outside. My dad would tell us not to touch the tent walls when it rained, come on dad, did you really think we could resist touching the wall after you told us not to? Drip, drip, drip, right on our faces from the spot we couldn't resist not touching:sombrero:
I miss that old tent. I hope my kids are having as fond of memories as I did.