For me campsites are synonymous with mud. We have camped once as a family, foolishly heading to West Wales in 1987 where it rained for six out of seven days. When we arrived there was one waterfall cascading down from the nearby mountain. When we left there were four. Leaving was a miracle in itself given that we were camping in a farmer's muddy field and it was still raining.
I was really impressed with this post by Nick Welford. It really blessed me and encouraged me to remember where I came from, and Who made me. He (my Creator) deserves all glory and honor and praise!