Memories of Summers Gone

It felt like camp this morning. It was brisk summer morning with a light breeze, the sun drying the dew on the grass. It smelled like fresh rain. It instantly made me nostalgic for my childhood summers at overnight camp. Waking up on a thin cot mattress, dressed head to toe in sweatpants and a sweatshirt (sometimes even with the hood up if it was an especially cold night in the mountains), and often with a slightly scratchy throat. Our pull rope windows would be sealed shut and ironically the cabin wouldn't warm up without opening them.

The "20 minutes until line-up" announcements would progress at a rate that seemed much faster than reality, quickly building up to the last minute when you knew you had to get out of bed if you were to have time to brush your teeth before breakfast. A quick glance at your best camp friend sleeping next to you would be returned with an equally knowing glance... "do you think they are going to make us get in the pool today?" - a reference to 1st period instructional swim.

Soon all of girls' camp was stumbling out of their bunks, bags under their eyes from long nights of giggling and telling stories, some maybe even came back just a few hours prior from a raid to boys' camp with memories of a secret kiss and a summer crush.

By the end of breakfast, temperatures would have risen enough to be comfortable (but still not enough to go swimming! Never!). Another day in the Poconos awaited us - bound to be filled with memory-making activities that we would only realize later when walking to work on a cool summer day among the hustle and bustle of Washington, D.C.