MORPHED

It was a subtle thing, hardly noticeable, at first. The steady slamming of the bathroom door up the hill from our campsite, the constant whirring sound of bicycle tires upon pavement, the continuing chatter of children playing, accented with the occasional shreek of some imagined child's atrocity being committed. Now, was gone, all gone. There is no Spring break going on, it's long past. Children that were visiting Grandparents at the campground for the weekend, are all gone.
The morphing had began Sunday afternoon and was completed before darkness descended upon the campground.
Just before dark, the duty Ranger came around to collect the rent. Our friend had gone off duty and a very pleasant Lady had the duty. We had been busy with the first days camp chores and hadn't picked up on the morphing that was occouring.
Even before sunup, Monday morning, it was becoming apparent that the change had happened. The wildlife was really stirring in the campground. Birds and Squirrels just absolutely covered the ground, because the rowdy, quick movements of Children and Dogs wasn't present.
The cheery percolating sound of the coffee pot had been replaced by gentle sipping sounds coming from coffee mugs. We were waiting. It wasn't a ritual of any sort, but instead the beautiful marking of the beginning of a great time at the lake. The jugs hadn't been cast the evening before, so we were lingering over coffee. The lights were off inside our Ollie and the windows faced the right direction to catch the first rays of sunshine as they burst upon the campground.
Flashing through the windows, the first rays of sunlight, totaly lit up the inside of the trailer. Quietly, gazing across the tops of coffee mugs, we grinned at each other.
The Morphing was complete. We were now in Geezerville !
Residents of Geezerville ! I wonder who the Mayor is of Geezerville ? Hey, that has a nice ring to it ! The Mayor of Geezerville. He, he, how do you get that job ? I wonder. . . . . .