A Fort in the Woods
The ‘fort’ wasn’t far from the houses that surrounded the little patch of woods in which it had been built. A large number of branches had been arranged into a teepee and then covered with more branches of pine and spruce that still held their needles. The construction had been well done and the pine/spruce roofing actually shed the rain keeping the inside dry…amazing. I found it on a rainy day as I was walking the woods looking for our dog that had run off. The opening, which was large enough for me to enter without having to crawl, offered an invitation that I couldn’t resist; I...
Read More“Fool me once, shame on…”
While building a fire in the wood stove, I was crumpling up newspaper and dropping it into the bottom of the stove. There is a science to this mindless task; first, the piece of paper is laid out flat, then rolled into a ball that traps lots of air between the maze of folds created by the rumpling. If I let myself read what’s on these pages I get “involved” and it takes forever to get the fire lit. So, while doing this task I adhere to a rule: don’t read the papers that you’re using to build the fire. A while back, I broke my rule! As I was opening the page, a headline caught my...
Read MoreA Running Camper is a Happy Camper
All day, every day, for thirty camp seasons, I’ve watched campers (at Eagle Feather and Eagle Wing) running to get to their next activity. They’re not running because they’re late, or fear being left behind, or left out, or chastised, or losing anything. They run to swimming, sailing, lacrosse, archery, arts and crafts, canoeing, soccer, Sloyd, dance, drama… Sure these are neat events, but they also run to the dining hall, the cabin, to raise the flags in the morning, to put the trash in the dumpster, to catch up with a friend who’s just up the trail. At Eagle Feather they run the...
Read MoreA Bench in the Sea Grass
Rob poured a cup of coffee, walked across the road and sat on a bench that looked out on the bay. Further up the road was a public parking lot which had rows of benches that also looked on the bay. Those benches were made of steel or concrete. This bench sat alone in the sea grass that separated the road from the beach. Its unpainted wood had become rough from age; it would give you splinters if you weren’t careful. This bench wouldn’t allow you to live carelessly; Rob never considered sitting on the benches by the parking lot.
Read MoreA Thought for Easter and Every Other Day Too
It is not possible to know if the next throw of the dice will bring a seven or an eleven. What is known, for certain, is that the only way for a seven or an eleven to come up is by throwing the dice. Too many American children are being taught to not throw the dice. Such a mindset reliably produces a life expectation similar to that expressed by the French adolescent who was asked what he thought would constitute a well lived life. He replied, “To graduate from college and get a good government job.” Mediocrity begins with small dreams and is assured by no dreams. Dreams are risky...
Read MoreWatercolor Paint
I remember being given a watercolor paint set when I was six, seven or eight. The set consisted of a coloring book filled with the outlines of objects and scenes to be painted, a small metal box and a paint brush. The box was divided into six or seven compartments that each held a piece of solidified watercolor paint. Each piece was a different color. I had great fun mixing all the colors together and then smearing them on the paper; surprisingly, to my single-digit year old mind, the only color that emerged was brown. I had no one to teach me about mixing colors, or when not to mix...
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