This was the big big session. All beds full. Session 3 is nearly the same size, but 2 is a peak. East Valley Ranch - full. Farm Camp - full. Adventure Trips - many & thriving. Adventure Village/Sequoia: 7 tents. Lakota is 5 cabins plus an overfull Turrell Lodge - almost 60 kids just there. The dining hall is packed, and loud. Olympics is crazy. Overnights coming and going. The fields are pounded by soccer-playing, frisbee-throwing, hangout-hangin' kids. After lunch each day the roof is raised by raised voices. And so on. Now that's done and there's a lull between sessions 2 and 3. The staff really need the break (to catch up on sleep, and family commitments and unfinished applications for majors and study abroad, etc.) and at the moment they are quickly cleaning up cabins and village area, in anticipation of loading up the cars and heading south to cities and suburbs and country houses. I posted the photo above and left on Facebook just now, whereupon John Ferris (distinguished old-time VC of Forest and Lenape, and now a great teacher of literature and writing in Vermont) commented as follows: "Tranquility Base." Indeed. A calm inside a storm. Emotions rode high at closing campfires last night and this morning as multiple goodbyes were said, promises to keep in touch made. A thousand hugs. Genuine ones. And good tears. The VC of Hemlock, Dom, surprised himself by having such a strong reaction to the departure of many of his campers, and several of his staff. At both campfires last night we sang "Old Wawayanda," Jacob Nathanson (on accordian) and I backed up by all counselors who were leaving today after a month. For each of the two camps there were perhaps six or seven people leaving - college orientation, family commitments, a new job starting (Sam M.), a trip to Botswana to plan for (Alex J.), etc. These departing folks took it hard, and good. They sang with feeling. Everyone caught the essence of it. The night was cold and clear - a beautiful scene for a campfire. Hird did its fire at the edge of Big Tree Field, and there was the old tree, shadowy in the background. A reminder that some things can be counted upon, to be right there when you return. I have the honor of greeting parents picking up their children, and it's always a sight to behold: a tender reunion in every case. The child cries because it's hard to leave such new dear friends, and cries because it's overwhelmingly good to see mom and dad after two or four weeks away. It's a combination that leads to the most crucial life skill: independence from one's parents, someday. We start that path here.
After singing my song at both campfires, and I checked on the CITs, also spending their last night after a month. And then I went up to Lakeview Lodge to say hello to some camper parents we'd invited to spend a night at camp before picking up their kids. I walked into the common room of Lakeview and found two of the parents I'd sought, but they were there with the STEP village group. These are MAC campers who have "graduated" to a special village of young adults who learn to work jobs around camp. All of them I've known for years. This is the pinnacle of their years at camp. And they were having their final devo (devotions), going around to offer "rose, bud, thorn" - one thing good, one thing coming up next, and one thing not so good. The discussion was unforgettably beautiful, as each STEP person had something to say, and were affirmed by the positive responses of their peers. One guy, who's had anger problems for years, showed how far he'd come, and was as kind and generous as could be in his responses to others. The VC of STEP, Olivia, honored me by giving me a chance to offer my rose, bud, and thorn. Rose: I was feeling very proud of what they've accomplished and how hard they've worked. Bud: Looking forward to hearing about their jobs (and paychecks) out in the real world of work. Thorn: When they left Frost Valley to try their hands at work in the world, I would miss them. The thorn hurts but it's just a little prick. Let them go.
