Perspectives Around Camp
Sunset Over Friendship Circle
The evening of Twilight Play was sparkling. Camp buzzed with waterfront play, horse painting, and the USA vs Bosnia soccer game. The activities were fun, fast paced, and a little hectic. But as the sun continued to set, time began to slow, and I joined our cabin Peter Pan on the gatehouse green.
Friendship Circle is a special tradition at Gwynn Valley, but never have I seen one quite like this. A silent circle of sitting campers, with every 8 and 9 year old resting calmly. I approached with caution, not quite believing my eyes, and was invited to join.
Their counselor let me know they had finished 10 minutes of silent meditation, and were about to share what they have been thinking about. One at a time, “popcorn style”, the boys began to share:
- I was looking at the mountains and the sunset and thinking about how beautiful they are
- I was thinking about how I miss my sister and my mom and dad
- I was looking at the sky and was reminded of the picture of God’s finger touching that man’s, I can’t quite remember who he is though
- I thought about airplanes
The counselor closed the circle remembering a song from our afternoon in the Lodge:
“This pretty planet spinning through space,
You’re a garden, you’re a harbor,
You’re a holy place”
Amidst the thrills of camp, we also get these sacred moments. The special, surprising nights, where the sun sets across the Blue Ridge Mountains and a small circle of boys share it quietly.
-Charlotte Luse, Hillside Head Counselor
The Here and Now
As the day of the fourth of July carried on, the anticipation for the annual firework spectacle grew. As a first-year staff member, my mind pieced together an expectation for the show based on recollections of seasoned staff members and long time campers. Many recalled the best places along the water’s edge to watch it, others hyped up the sheer size of the fireworks. The time came for the long awaited show and the energy amongst the campers was palpable.
Based on the wisdom shared from returning staff, I positioned myself to the right of the Sundial to capture photo and video footage. In front of me sat the entirety of Cabin Connestee Cove. The girls were ecstatic and fervorous chatter filled the air. One camper reminisced about the firework show from last year, another expressed her love for fireworks because it reminds her of her family. Though they were being vocally enthusiastic about the show, the genuine look of excitement in their eyes solidified their joy. Seeing this I asked if it would be okay if I used them as my primary subjects for some video shots I had in mind. The girls were thrilled and immediately talked about how they would look in the video. They started to practice how they would look in the video and jokingly rehearsed faces. This carried on up until the show started.
The first firework shot into the air, startlingly the girls. Despite spending so much time deciding on how they would pose, those rehearsed faces dropped and were immediately forgotten. One after another the fireworks lit up the sky, illuminating the girl’s faces. Looking through the footage I watched as the sparkle in their eyes and look of pure childlike wonder grew with each and every firework. The girls unconsciously reached for each other, holding their cabinmates hands while gazing admirably up at the sky. At that moment, nothing else mattered. The look in their eyes was not just fascination with the pyrotechnics in the sky, but a reflection and culmination of the community and connection built
through the ten days together.
The sheer magnitude of these moments are profound. The girls became silent, overcome with marvel and wonderment. No words or vocal acknowledgement could properly convey the significance of this moment. Just as the moment anchored the girls to the present, I completed the shot and put my camera down and simply watched, becoming entrenched in the here and now. Though the fireworks were some of the best I have ever seen, the raw emotion and foundational core memories occurring in front of me are most prominent in my mind as it solidified what I learned throughout the session.
Camp is filled with loud laughter, flashing spectacles, and plenty of over the top activities. However, at the root of it all are the candid moments that ground us in the present, connecting us with others and helping us grow into something bigger than ourselves.
-Lily Whitener, Photographer and Videographer
Screech Owls or The Tajar?
We have a few new residents at camp: screech owls.
A few nights ago, I stood beneath the Hemlock trees, where our new friends reside, and admired the beauty and poise of these gentle creatures. It was one of those special moments, where the usual noises soften, and the gift of Gwynn Valley surrounds you.
Before we knew it, the mother owl swooped down dramatically from her perch. We watched in awe, as I heard a passing camper remark, “Did you see that? It was the Tajar I am SURE of it!” Full of conviction that he had just seen the Tajar with his own two eyes!
For those who may not know, the Tajar is our elusive camp legend who lives in the tallest tree on camp and is “something like a tiger, something like a jaguar, and something like a badger.” If you see him once, you forget what you saw. If you see him a second time, you forget what you forgot. And if you see this illusive creature a third time, you forget to have forgotten what you forgot. But you can surely remember one thing: the Tajar is a friend of yours!
It’s moments like these that remind us what makes Gwynn Valley so distinct. Nature invites us to slow down, look a little closer, and embrace the wonder around us. Whether it was a screech owl or the legendary Tajar, I am grateful for another story that reminds us camp is full of magic.
-Ellie Tirschwell, Programmer
