From a distance, the hillside of RVs and motor homes appears as an oasis of activity amid pastures populated by cows and goats.

A closer look and listen will reveal that what might seem like a simple campground is a weekend gathering of bluegrass gypsies, carried from town to town and state to state by their search for campground pickin'.

Temporary living rooms spring up on AstroTurf front yards in front of expensive RVs, big feeds are laid on and a scene somewhere between a family reunion and a tailgate party comes to life.

As dusk comes, humid darkness creeps into the grove of trees at Bass Mountain, instruments come out of cases and attention shifts from stage to campsites.

A lantern or bare bulb draws players and listeners like moths to light, and two-syllable "Heys" are exchanged between weekend neighbors.

Campground pickin' has always been a staple of the bluegrass festival scene. Licks are learned, passed from old to young and back again, impromptu bands form, only to change members as the night goes on. Some folks, at events such as the annual Bass Mountain Bluegrass Festival near Snow Camp, spend the day listening to bands by the main stage, while others never make it beyond their campsite, content to play and sing on their own.

As the last of the sunlight leaves the sky, lightning flashes to the east. Golf carts cruise the paths, carrying couples on campground dates, searching out old friends and the hot spot of the moment. Some cup hands around ears, searching out the harmony of a song among the cicadas and tree frogs, another fine night in the life of the bluegrass gypsies.