Coming Full Circle

I stood in the middle of a circle, a patch of green cut out from the natured habitat surrounding it. The space was the communal fire pit abandoned and dark at the State Park where I camped this weekend. I would spend some time each night standing in this circle watching the fire flies in 360 degree view; they were an orchestra of lights flashing all around me. A gazillion stars peaked through the blackness and tapered off where the trees hugged the sky. I would go down a path behind my tent to this place. I would sit in the stillness and just breathe in. I appreciate quiet moments ingesting the day while enjoying Mother Nature grow and swell around me with summer’s ripening harvest. I made it a point to come to this place and exchange silence with this circle.

My shoulders are burnt. A crimson red radiates from my aloe salved arms. This weekend, sun filled and hot, was spent under shading leaves from morning till dusk. We moved with the shadows, ever so preciously unrolling on the ground. We welcomed sweat permeating our cloths as it caught the breeze in cooling waves. We seemed to move our entire camp with the movement of the sun. We were grateful that the “beach” had ample shade to share and that the water was a mixture of warm and icy cold brought in by the deeper currents of the lake.

We cackled and laughed at the lifeguard’s insistence on the rules. No one may cross beyond the buoyed marker squeezing the shore. No one may touch the swans. Everyone must come out during safety check and count the heads of your party. The lifeguard would stroll out onto the grassy knoll a distance from the shore with bullhorn strapped to her hip on a holster like an Aquarian Sundance Kid and honk once. The crowded shore hushed into a still silence waited for her to finish sucking on her Popsicle to announce the next violation. The lifeguard was a mixture of casual voyeur and rule keeper that fit perfectly with the scene. The best part of the day was when we were called in for a safety check only to watch a score of children run in afterwards, arms flailing and water splashing high in the sky as though their fun depended on how fast they could resume their watery games. We laughed like children ourselves watching them return to the water in roaring laughter.

On our final day camping, we went for a canoe trip early in the morning in an attempt to beat the heat. Flowing down the shore, we spot swans and mimic the fun of the day before. We wondered where the horse trails were and commented that we could have done so much more if the days weren’t so hot. I appreciated just being in the days as they were, simply settling for the moments as they unfolded.

We ate simple, gorging ourselves on vegetables, nuts, and cookies. I forgot to bring in the marshmallows the first night and was greeted with the evidence of our raccoon neighbors and my campmates jokes and prods. We spent our time laughing, cranky, hot and happy.

This is how I greeted my 30th full circle around the sun.