Camper’s Ode to Friendship

Squee ©2018 Bo Mackison

There’s a squee sign on my kitchen counter
and a mountain of dirty clothes still packed in my suitcase.
There’s a mailbag whose contents I’m reluctant to explore.
If I wait will the holy presence of camp linger even longer?

There’s a fire flickering in my fireplace
but no monster-costumed campers are leaning in
warming their hands and chortling
at the ineffectiveness of paper products as kindling.

Still, I see you, I hear you, I know you all are with me still.

Story Tree, Oh Glory Be © 2018 Bo Mackison

There’s a red maple stretching into the sky just beyond my window
but its branches are a stark silhouette against the gray November sky.
Not one leaf remains; no blaze of glory yellow foliage,
no story tree sign, no campers rolling in the leaves and laughing.

Still, I see you, I hear you, I know you all are with me still.

Rocking Chairs, Cabin 38; Site of Shenanigans ©2018 Bo Mackison

There are no forever friends rocking on my back porch
sharing stories of struggles and victories; telling jokes to shrieks of glee.
The only sounds are the shuffle of the wind through tall grasses
and the squawk of Canada geese flying overhead.

Still, I see you, I hear you, I know you all are with me still.

Camp Mail Bags Filled with Love ©2018 Bo Mackison

I try my hardest to fill four days of camp with memories enough
to last a year, a lifetime even. I memorize your smiles; I recall our conversations.
I hang your art on my studio walls and pin your notes on my bulletin board.
I treasure my horde of 20 thingies as if they’re gifts from the gods — they’re that precious.

All ways to see you, to hear you, to know you all are with me still.

Make a Wish ©2018 Bo Mackison

This year I make a promise to myself– to keep in touch
and not through mental telepathy which leaves a lot to be desired.
No, this introvert will text and pick up the phone. I’ll send postcards and write letters.
I’ll keep the spark of connection shining, oh, so bright. So bright.

Tribute to Lynn Buckler Walsh  (1956-2018) ©2018 Bo Mackison

This year I’ll leave nothing to chance; I’ll not take for granted that we’ll
be together again. My Life-is-a-Verb [life-saver] Camp friends,
I treasure your presence. And no matter how we connect in the future–
across a table, over a phone line, or simply by gazing into a starry sky…

I see you, I hear you, and I know you all are with me still.

~~~~~

We celebrated the life of fellow camper Lynn Buckler Walsh at this year’s Life is a Verb Camp. Tears were shed and our hearts both ached with grief and filled with love in community.

Amazing friendships develop at Patti Digh’s Life is a Verb Camp. Connections with community last a lifetime and more. If you have ever considered LIAV Camp, now is the time to act. Registration is open and discounted registration is available through November 15, 2018.

Not Just Beach Friends

Kure Beach in Duotone

Kure Beach Boardwalk © 2013 Bo Mackison

If we are to honor the gift of being human, we must embrace our true nature and teach our soul to fly. ~ Michael Teal

I spent the last week on the Carolina Coast, visiting a friend.

We first met when we began following each other’s blogs in 2008. We connected in a big way. We are both nature lovers and photographers. We are writers and naturalists. We are explorers and caretakers of the earth. We even use the same camera!

For years we conversed through blog comments, Facebook, emails, and telephone calls, and as the years passed we were amazed at the many similarities in our lives. We even have birth dates – not just birthdays – only two days apart!

And so…we embraced adventure and made plans to meet in North Carolina.

We walked the beach every day — sometimes in mist, usually in sunshine. We walked during sunrises, we walked mid-day, we walked as evening shimmered into twilight. Always the sound of the infinite waves wove its way through our conversations.

We traveled the coast, drawn to the same sites: out-of-the-way, funky shops and consignment stores; an amazing aquarium; historical parks; river walks along the Cape Fear; historic architectural districts.

We took ferries to coastal towns that were so much like sacred places, they spoke to our spirits. We wandered through art galleries and walked boardwalks through salt marshes and maritime forests. We explored fishing piers, gardens, outsider art, and diners. We chatted with fishermen, a leatherback sea turtle specialist, artists and photographers, a shark tooth collector, and fellow oyster-shuckers.

It was a magical, mystical time of connection.

We laughed, shared stories, took a thousand photographs, inspired each other, and solved a few of the (smaller) problems of the world!

When I boarded the plane to return to Wisconsin, I waved so long to Debi, but we didn’t say goodbye. We’ve already made plans for Tucson in 2014!