Boy Scout Camp in Retrospect

Boy Scout camp was a great excuse to connect with my inner yang.  No one expects a lot of yin-ish behaviors from women in the woods.  It's the woods for God's sake!  The land of "sceeters, tents, and port o' pots".

I am grateful that my tent mate was attuned to the yin (if behaviors can be categorized as such). She brought a fan, installed a shelf,  hung a clothes line, and "tarped" the roof of our tent to prevent the occasional monsoon from obliterating our canvas domicile.

Each day, Turner arose at 6:30 am, helped cook, cleaned his dishes, and managed to navigate the 600 acre camp with little assistance.   In the evening, the Root Beer Cantina  entertained the scoutmasters and attending parents, as well as, hundreds of boy scouts as they danced on the stage of the camp amphitheatre, hopped up on sugar and adrenaline.

We walked everywhere. No cars, no sirens, no negative news stories.    Cool breezes, lake views, and the sounds of camp life brought new meaning (for me) to the catchphrase "think globally and act locally".  Our community of tents provided an intimacy, not often found in our suburban neighborhoods.  Walls of brick and mortar were nonexistent.  The flimsy canvas structures encouraged a closeness more like a family than mere members of a Boy Scout troop.

As expected, Turner and I both survived our brief trek "into the wild".  The "sceeters" didn't kill Turner and I managed to not only make peace with the simplicity of our experience, I embraced it.  I discovered that forests, as well as, beaches can center and renew my spirit.