Off to camp

This first week of the semester is always tiring. My body is adjusting to the routine of getting to campus in time to teach early morning classes, my mind is adjusting to the flurry of questions from advisees and the routine of preparing for class, and my whole self is agonizing at all the mandatory meetings. I am ready for a long weekend at camp.

At the end of August, the water level is low, and the bay is filled with weeds and lily pads. It's a perfect time for canoeing through the marsh, for swimming in the sun-warmed river, and for sitting around a campfire at night. The mosquitoes should be gone -- and the nights will be cool, just right for a sweatshirt and long pants, cold enough that snuggling up to a spouse in a small tent will feel great.

The extended family that gathers for Labor Day will be smaller than usual -- two of my nieces have already moved back to grad school in the Big City Like No Other, and my two oldest kids will be spending the weekend on a college retreat with other students from Snowstorm University. But my younger two kids will have cousins to play with. My husband and I will have time to take long afternoon walks, just the two of us, to talk over all that happened this summer and make plans for the fall.

Labor Day weekend is my transition from summer to fall. And camp provides space for thinking, for planning, for reflection. It will feel good to get away from the computer, the telephone, the radio, and all the demands of campus. I'll lie in the hammock and watch the geese gathering in the bay, or sit under the oak trees, listening to the acorns as they fall to the ground. And if we get some sunny weather, we will soak in as much sun as we can. Because this is the last weekend of summer.