Note: a departure from Alaska content, but maybe all of the fresh conifers triggered an olfactory memory…

For some reason today I’ve been getting band camp flashbacks all day. When I was in high school I spent two weeks of two summers at a lovely piney, lakey camp in Michigan. I went to band camp to study cello, and some art stuff. It was a lot of music, walking around paths with a lot of trees, and trying not to melt in the humid Michigan summer. I attended said camp now over 15 years ago, and probably haven’t thought about the particulars in at least 10.

Taking a shower this morning I suddenly remembered what it felt like to haul toiletries and things out to the bath house building and take a spider-filled shower, then try to get back to the cabin without all of the dirt sticking to my still wet feet in my flip flops (the alternative, shoving still wet feet into socks and shoes, was equally fraught).

Then, getting into my freshly made bed this evening I remembered the satisfying feeling of a well-made bunk, and slipping into (or onto because summer in a forest cabin is toasty) my sleeping bag, popping in my headphones, and listening to Avril Lavigne or my “sleep time” mix CD on my discman. I even have a small fan running next to my bed this evening just like at camp.

I’m curious how this trend will develop. I’m tempted to stoke the flame a bit. Should I strap my cello on my back and head for the trees? Wear flip flops in the shower? I’ve already got plenty of spiders. I’m just a pair of chuck tailors with mismatched laces and a severe case of seasonal allergies away from traveling back in time…