Too Long in the Wasteland? Maybe Not
T.S. Elliot had it right when he said April is the cruelest month-at least in Minnesota it can be. Today it was 50 degrees, the sun was shining, and the idea of donning shorts actually crossed my mind. Tomorrow, they tell me, it will be in the 20’s with a 100% chance of heavy snowfall- anywhere from 5 to 12 inches. I can see why Elliot might have thought this was all futile, but as I look out my window and see bare trees and an off-putting mixture of snow and mud, I can’t help but see potential. Soon, just as the trees have been dormant and will bud new leaves, the campus will be filled with laughter, song, and even some screams- the good kind!
It borders on sounding a bit too “new-agey”, but one can actually feel the renewal of the woods. The first sign is always the birds, and the crazy trill of the pileated woodpecker is a reassuring marker. There are several friends who are tapping the maple trees to make homemade syrup- a labor of love, but one with a sweet reward. On average it can take 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup! As the lake gives up the ice, it can release an eerie moaning sound as the pressure ridges release. And, as the sun stays higher in the sky, the urge to be outside and get stuff done takes over- never mind that it’s hard to get stuff done in the mud-mired frosted ground.
Walking around Camp when no one is here takes some getting used to, and I am not sure I will ever really get “used to” it. The collection of buildings and equipment can look sad, as if they have been sidelined from their true purpose. “All this for 8 weeks of use?” I sometimes catch myself thinking. But it doesn’t take much- the first buzz of green in the woods, the freezing first dip in the lake, or donning the first shorts of the season to remind one why this place exists. It all makes sense, once again, and when that first bus pulls in, the kinetic- and sometimes frenetic- energy and everything comes to life, once again.
I was reminded by my new friend, Chat GPT, that potential and kinetic energy can be converted into each other, and that the total energy in a closed system remains constant. I found this oddly comforting. There is a ton of energy in these dreary April woods just waiting to be released, and for the most noble of purposes. If only Elliot had these tools at his disposal! - but then he might never have written “The Wasteland.” He obviously never went to summer camp.
Campers arrive in 76 days, and as I have taken to saying this time of year, we will take everyone of them. It’s the fastest 76 days there are. We can’t wait.