This past Friday night was the starriest night I can ever remember at Frost Valley. Moon not up yet, crystal clear skies, low humidity. One of the planets (Jupiter, I think) was rising over Wildcat. On the opposite end of the starry dome, hovering over Doubletop as if offering it a drink, was the brightest Big Dipper one can imagine. So bright and clear it seemed to be right there with us - and had a 3D look about it. Just my luck: this was the night I was scheduled to tell a doubleheader of stories around campfires. Forest at 9:30 and Windsong at 10:30. Windsong has a beautiful lodge with a common room (and its own fireplace) so, alas, they haven't been known this summer for their outdoor fires, although they have a gorgeous fire-ring from which you can look up across the open field on which the observatory sits (where the old Rifle Range once was). Bill Abbott has been around for a long weekend and on Thursday night, the night before, traveled to overnight camp sites and at at least one of them told his story, about the "Norwegian Sweater." About a dozen Susky girls the next day exclaimed about that story and wanted me to confirm details, which I gladly did.
Back to our starry Friday night, then: At Forest I told the story of J.C. Pony and the Haunted House, scary lite and full of "the Wawayanda Spirit." ("Has Forest got the spirit?" "Yeah, man!") At Windsong, 10:30 PM, they gathered around the outdoor ring-ring, the staff made a good roaring fire (after a bit of work to make it) and everyone turned eyes upward to the darkness, watching sparks floating up and being swallowed by it. Then I told yet another narrative variation of "Stories of the Pygmies"--a reprise of tales told roughly from '72 through the late '70s, and started by Bobby Hettler who brought the stories, and the little creatures, from Camp Fitch in Ohio. After that story I asked the girls how many and how much they believed in the Pygmies. Were they in the "Pro-Pgymy-ite" faction? All said yes. One said, "Yes, I believe all of it. Everything." And she is about as tough and skeptical a 15-year-old as you can find. Must have been the stars. Must have been the Milky Way, spreading down its magical stardust.Starry night factoid: In the summer, in our hemisphere, the constellation Cassiopeia forms the shape of a W. W for Wawayanda, of course.
