This Labor Day weekend was nothing short of soul-filling. Three days spent camping at Settlers Cove gave us just the right blend of relaxation, adventure, and family connection. It felt like summer’s last big embrace—sun on our shoulders, sand between our toes, and laughter echoing through the trees.
Friday – The Prep
We kicked things off Friday by packing for three nights under the stars. Snacks, tents, firewood, and all the camping essentials were loaded up. Our nephew Aizen, 14, joined us for the whole weekend—something the boys were over the moon about. They absolutely cherish him, looking up to him as the perfect big cousin. His patience, care, and gentle way with them makes my heart swell. He’s at an age where he could easily be too “cool” for little kids, but instead he chooses to pour into them, teaching, helping, and making them feel important. For Odin and Fawkes, that kind of role model is priceless.
We even brought the dog along for the adventure, tail wagging with excitement at every turn.
Saturday – Beach Days
Saturday was pure sunshine and simplicity. We spent the entire day at the beach, the boys racing into the ocean waves and swimming until their teeth chattered. I couldn’t resist joining in—feeling like a mermaid in the cold saltwater as they laughed and splashed around me. Watching their faces light up when I dove under was the best kind of joy.
Back at camp, the fire was the centerpiece: hot dogs roasting, jiffy pop sizzling, and our pup Diesel curled up nearby, damp from the day’s adventures. When the boys ran off chasing each other through the trees, I sank into a chair by the fire with my book, the perfect pause between moments of play. Shorts, sandals, sandy feet, and happy exhaustion—just the way summer is meant to be.
Sunday – Family, Boat Rides, and Berries
Sunday was one of those magical Alaskan days where everything aligns. Both sides of the family—mine and Adam’s—joined together for a boat trip out to Naha. Surrounded by wild beauty, we picked gallons of huckleberries—buckets filling, fingers stained purple, and the kids darting between bushes with berry-streaked grins.
Later, back at Settlers, I found myself once again jumping in the ocean—playing with the boys, and then climbing up the rocks with Aizen. Together we jumped into the icy water, the shock stealing our breath followed by laughter. There’s something about leaping off rocks into the ocean that makes you feel ageless—him a teenager on the brink of growing up, me a mom remembering my own wild childhood, and the little boys watching wide-eyed, dreaming of the day they’ll be big & brave enough too.
That night, as if to crown the day, the northern lights unfurled across the sky above Settlers Cove. Green ribbons shimmered and swayed as Adam and I stood with Aizen, the little boys fast asleep, all just hushed by the beauty.
Out on the boat Sunday, as we made our way toward Naha, my mom turned to me with a smile and said, “I remember the summer I camped out at Settlers all week with you three kids. I’ll never forget it. It was so fun.” Her words stopped me for a moment, because I never forgot it either. That memory has stayed with me all these years, shaping the way I mother now. I told her that’s exactly why we camp out here with the boys as often as we do—because those moments last forever. They carve themselves into our hearts, just like hers did into mine.
The Little Things That Made It Big
The sunsets painted the sky in warm summer colors. The boys swam until their lips turned blue, yet begged for “just five more minutes.” And Aizen—he was the steady thread woven through it all. The boys adore him not just because he’s fun, but because they feel safe and seen with him. He models patience, kindness, and adventure, and I can already see how much they want to be just like him.
By this morning (Monday), I felt refreshed in the deepest way—like my lungs had been rinsed with ocean air, my soul warmed by firelight, and my heart stretched wide by family.
This Labor Day wasn’t just a weekend away. It was a memory that will live on in our boys’ laughter, in the taste of late-summer berries, in the icy saltwater plunges, in the quiet pages of my book by the fire, and in the glow of those unforgettable northern lights.
trailandtruth.blog 
Leave a comment