Celebratory Occasions

August 8, 2024

Everyone is tired to be sure, but the mood at camp right now is quite festive regardless.  I counted three things that were “celebrated” yesterday as the season draws to a close.

We truly honor tenure here at Kingswood and make no effort to conceal the awards that accrue to those who have been coming to camp for a string of summers. Even two-year veterans get a nice Kingswood tumbler to take home and the three-year (and beyond) folk get the current rendition of the camp Frisbee.

One parent long ago called to teasingly complain that their son had rejected a proposed family plan to basically tour the world on the grounds that he was not going to lose out on getting that disk!

But I digress.  Last evening’s celebration came at the picnic supper, down by the lake and on a gorgeous evening, where the five-years’ were treated to steak.  Juicy and tender, these large slabs were enjoyed by an enormous throng of grizzled types who have been coming to camp since pre-Covid times.

We made certain not to short-change those with fewer Kingswood summers under their belts and this writer went through the normal food line to get a bowl of homemade soup, which I liked more than the steak, to be honest, a secret I urge you not to reveal.

Yesterday was the last day of hikes for the summer. I had to ask twice when informed that 20+ souls had opted for the journey over to the Lakes Region of New Hampshire to tackle the low but rugged peaks of the Squam Range. But the views were worth all that trouble and this excursion got back home just in time for the ravenous feast.

In my photos, you can see Scott Morneault (wearing the purple shirt) delivering a mighty kudo to the lads who summited Mt. Garfield in the Pemigewassett Wilderness and were treated to the “best views” of the summer.  All hikes are honored at Kingswood.

Then we celebrated the Egg Drop up next to the CIT residence known as the Barn.  I have long since given up on attempting to describe the sheer exuberance that marks these occasions. I followed the contraption-bearers up the hill to the staging area mostly because I love those sepia colors of late-summer evenings.

But just why the occasion qualifies as celebratory, when Director Evil promises that all eggs will be destroyed, is beyond my ken so you will simply have to take my sketchy word for it.