And so the password for today is “And, Max said, Let the wild rumpus start.”
A very wise person recently reminded me that camp is, in its own way, a living thing. The space that we inhabit, the buildings that get closed and opened each year have a history and a life that exists beyond our human participation in them. They bear witness to the passing of time and while we experience major life events here, so do they. Perhaps you were excited to return after finally shedding the awkwardness and poor haircut decisions of childhood when you had finally grow into your own as a senior; while in its own right, the barn underwent the transformative nature of a refurbished roof and felt that it was now showing its best self as you did. Or maybe your happiest memories here have been spent out at the Point so the equally well worn path and dock stand are testaments to the quiet moments and aimless Nature classes spent getting to know friends as well as the outdoors. Simply while camp is a part of our lives, we are equally a part of its.
To that end, I have recently begun to think about camp as if it were a bear that hibernates for much too long, one that goes to bed at the end of October only to wake up around the end of April, beginning of May. If this is the case, camp is only just starting to fully wake up. Sure, there is movement in those first few weeks but they are the grumpy, hesitant and not fully thought out movements of a still sleepy bear. Not all systems are functioning properly like the fuses that cease working in the Farmhouse or the questionable nature of the first stream of water that comes out of a faucet in the fields but after some wandering around and re-acclimating, bears inevitably remember how to be bears as camp remembers how to be camp. Bare platforms become tents, supplies tucked away for storage are hauled out for use again and, just as bear vacate their dens, we clear all of the boats out of the Old Dining Hall. So now that there is a flurry of activity and voices carrying across the fields, we can get down to the true duties of being a bear, letting out roars of laughter, chowing down on every blueberry bush in sight and stopping to lounge in the sun.