Anyway.
Picked up the boys from camp on Friday. When we arrived, we couldn't find them in any of their usual spots. And then -- spotted. My heart skipped a little as I saw Alex (could that be Alex?) sailing across the lake and someone told me the windsurfer was Max. Oh what joy. They pulled into the beach, all smiles and hugs. They were so confident, sweet, tan, happy. They waved and chatted with every boy of every age as we ambled back to their bunk. Trunks were already packed, beds were made (I think a camp counselor had some sway on those) and the boys seemed just a little older, more mature, content. A month in the woods, in a complex of cabins, tether balls, frisbee golf markers, soccer fields, rocks, dirt roads and of course a big beautiful lake has broadened their horizons and calmed them in a way that day camp never did. I am so happy to have them back home but oh, my heart sings that we could give them this wonderful experience.
We spent the day at camp with them on Friday, and left on Saturday morning. Here's a glimpse of my growing campers and our day on Friday.
