some people understand that summer camp made me who i am.
they understand that the long, hot, sticky days
spent with friends i only got to see for a few weeks a year
somehow turned those friends into the ones i cared about the most.
as if the sunshine baked them into my very soul.
and they're still there -
relationships that have lasted 30 years now.
they understand that the rituals and pranks and backrubs and songs and acronyms
are just part of my everyday vernacular.
they grew up with me.
i can't imagine life without them.
they understand that every important lesson in life was, in some part, learned or cultivated there.
love of nature
they understand that there's still nothing i'd rather do
than dig out a big hole on the beach
in conneaut, ohio
and sit in it, for hours, talking and learning and loving
with every inch of my sandy body.
and then there are some people who don't understand. at all.