Opequon

That's how I remember it. In flashes of all my senses. The smell of a burning flames and smoke that continues to cling to your clothes till morning. The purr of cicadas and roar of night. The feel of a hand, of everyone's hand as we stand in a slowly tightening circle, eyeing the steaming food. The sight of attentive eyes; of eyes that care; eyes that will catch your fall. Taste the love of five workers. You can't take just one bite; you eat in heaps. I can feel the presence of joy, radiating from peoples smiles as steady as the sun. There's a warmth at this place called camp. A warmth you can't get anywhere else, no matter how sunny the day is. It's walking onto a stage where everyone's the star and there are no judges. It's floating down the river, trusting the water to carry you in the right direction. It's looking down from the top of a mountain you just conquered. It's free falling into love. That's how I remember it.