kids laugh, a four wheeler’s engine purrs, sunlight shines down and warms the ground. I get out of the car in my...
I was 7, the same scene, laughter from tons of kids, bags of medical equipment, clothing, and bedding. Voices of friends being reunited after a year of not seeing each other. The clean water of Green Lake, splashing against the slimy, moss and seaweed covered rocks as small grey minnows swam through the water.
I was 13, the fresh smell of lake water, the same laughter i was welcomed with every year when i would arrive at camp. A long metal dock with tan pieces of wood to stop kids from falling off into the cold,yet clear water while fishing during the day. An orange fishing pole, soft purple foam, I had been fishing that afternoon, a large fish going after my bait. A gasping, slimey, small mouthed green bass.
I was 17, the last time my grey and black sneakered feet will touch the grey pavement. 11 years of the same laughter, 11 years of hearing the same “welcome back” “I missed you!”, the same pranks being pulled, the same sounds and smells of paint brushes and paint, sights and touches of grass, squishy brown mud, from my own week at paradise.
Warm days, cool nights, the crackling fire and the taste of gooey, melty s’mores. The taste of burnt hot dogs were in the air. The smell of the occasional burning twinkie when guys at camp got curious. I was handed a small, package, wrapped with clear plastic so you could see the soft, yellow cake of a twinkie, by a counselor named Anthony, he had heard me mention that I never had a twinkie before, and he wanted me to try one for the first time.
I am 17, the memories of camp, the times when it was pouring out and everyone would run to shelter so they wouldn’t get soaked and so the wheelchairs wouldn’t get soaked, The groaning of kids when they’d get their hands on too much candy or if they hadn’t slept enough during rest period. Tears, laughter, warm embraces. The last time I would feel the love of my family away from my home.