Friday, July 16, 2010

making camp

Today holds that quintessential summer ritual: the trip to camp. We'll head out Interstate 85 to Highway 74 and, further down the road, to Highway 26. Up into the North Carolina mountains we'll twist and turn through the little town of Flat Rock, past the Carl Sandburg home and National Park, to the good little bakery where we'll eat lunch, next to a store called The Wrinkled Egg. Then, the moment a certain someone pines for all year: arrival at the cool, cedar-scented grounds of the old Episcopal Camp her Dad went to. There'll be reunited friends, hiking, swimming, rafting, crafts, skits, prayers around the camp fire, sleeping bags under the stars. It's a pretty special place - and way - to spend a few weeks every summer. And dream about the rest of the year long.

1 comment:

phonelady said...

wow sounds spectacular . have fun .