Al's Frost Valley alumni blog: Simon Says

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Simon Says

Occasionally at Challenge Night I will pull out Simon Says. I'm a rough master of the game, but at least I apologize in advance. Inviting the judges to be persnickity is one of the things that makes the whole thing so funny. Anyway, Sandy Shapiro Bohn took this shot a few nights ago - at the Farm. Simon says put your hands up over your head.

Frost Valley

is a place where good things happen when people pay attention to each other. There’s endless beauty here - the high meadows, blankets of evergreens, and pristine brook trails – and you can meet nature in all its forms. But more than that, it’s a place where our ties to friends and family are strengthened. When a community of people came to the Catskills to build Frost Valley, they had in mind a place where you can sit next to someone you think you know, and then really get to know them. It also happens to be where the everyday light and shadow is enough to inspire artists; where American fly-fishing was born; and where today, a quarter million acres of green forests still remain “forever wild.” At Frost Valley, where we are does have an effect on how we treat each other. Here, a family can relearn what “family style” means as they share a meal together. The rose-gray river stones in the hearths and chimneys around camp reflect the colors of nearby Biscuit Creek and pull you into the surroundings. If you need more reasons why it’s so special here, we encourage you to explore citizen science activities during every season. But you don’t have to, because you might have more fun just learning silly camp songs. And by the end of your stay, when you your family and newly found friends are composting like pros together, everyone becomes richer, including next year’s butterfly garden.

...and if I could transport myself

not just back to this place, but to a certain moment in my personal history here, it would perhaps be:

end of lunch on any July day in 1968, and Dave King (our camp director) walks to the center of the dining hall, without microphone, and without introduction of any kind begins to lead one of the 25 or so camp songs we sang in those days. He is the maestro, waving one arm to the rhythm we are to follow and with the other arm, at turns, directing us to sing quietly or loudly or pointing toward some one camper who isn't singing or (rarely) is talking. And it's "Young Folks Old Folks" or "Zum Gali Gali" or "Deep and Wide" and I look down to the end of the table at my counselor and he's singing too, no hesitation, not too old for this, totally entranced and I myself turn my gaze back toward Dave....

Okay, I ache for that. Not being young again, not quite. More like being momentarily again part of such harmony.

Al's Frost Valley alumni blog

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Simon Says

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