Bivouac Under the Stars

Evening dew was beginning to bead across the tall grass blades, making a recovery haul up the steep porch steps far too hazardous tonight. Golly, field operations simply require adapting to the terrain! I climbed back inside the grounded soda-bottle cockpit, pulling the translucent milk cap canopy snug over my head. To stop the night breeze from rattling the flexible plastic wings, I reached out and wedged a bent dry twig against the wire crank, locking the flapping linkage firmly in place. Tucking a soft, threefold clover leaf under my head as an ergonomic cushion, I peered up through the curved bottle hull at the dark sky. Field shelter operational.