The Thanksgiving Holiday Weekend just passed and I am back in the office working on all the little things that go into camp. Sorting through pictures for our next brochure, updating the website, working with our specialty camps to set up their campers' experiences and so much more. There is always so much to do at camp I frequently need a reminder to appreciate what is going on around me in the nature and in the kids who are experiencing it. My reminder has been Banderas.
Banderas is my dog, although the campers might tell you he is my bear. He is adopted from a rescue shelter and is 80 lbs. of long black fur. He might be 13 years old. He might be 7. He might be a Chow mix, and he might be something else entirely. He is calm, loving, and patient. And he has severe arthritis.
Banderas has never been the most energetic dog, but he has slowed down considerably due to his arthritis. Despite this he is never happier than when he is wandering camp exploring the many smells and saying hi to the many friends we encounter as we stroll through the land of the high hills. I always have a million things to do when walking around camp. Banderas always has a much shorter list. Enjoy the moment, be present with those around you, feel the sun on your face, take it slow. More than anyone I have ever met (or any dog), Banderas is a master of the quiet moment.
So I am thankful for my health, I am thankful for Banderas, and I am thankful that I work in a place full of quiet moments. It’s much easier to be excited about climbing the tower, or a water slide, but at camp I think it is the quiet moments that mean the most. The after dinner conversations on the rocks at the pond, the comfort around the campfire while looking up at the stars, the community felt by sharing a bench and singing a song. As adults I think we sometimes assume that kids get plenty of quiet moments, yet part of the nostalgia for being a kid is craving more of them.
Maybe our kids could use a few more. I know I could.
Jason Smith
Executive Director