Clouds

When we left to drive to the San Francisco airport to head up to Four Winds Westward Ho, it was still dark. David had become nervous; the reality that the camp was going from website videos to actual tents was seeking in. My wife and I were frightened. David is a bright kid with a dark sense of humor, but his taking care of himself skills are not well honed.

Once aloft, above the bay, it was dawn. The clouds were so low that the tops of radio towers and mountains rose out of them. It was as if there were a forested archipelago floating in a pink sea. Our house was somewhere underneath, fading behind, and the warnings of life vests under seats or putting on your own mask before someone else ignored them.

I think of Four Winds like that moment. That David will remember the wonderful peaks and not so much the challenges underneath.

I know that it takes much to pull off these pink clouds. From large things like buses breaking down to small ones like the number of bandaids he came back with, there is no way the week was perfectly smooth. You do incredible work. Thank you.

I know that when David returns, he will be more self-sufficient; the number of clean underwear that came back made us realize that he needs to learn a daily rotation.

He will know more about the lyrics of the songs and the rigging of boats.

But it won’t be as magical as the first. He was memorized by the hypnotist and thrilled that he made soap and lip balm. I just hoped he used the latter.

I also hope his newly founded independence will last into the school year, though I want to apologize that airport security wasn’t the best place to practice them.

You do wonders.

I wanted to wish you the best as you prepare for the 95 anniversary. I can only imagine the generations coming back and talking about their peaks, their moments when they were so young, their parents equally nervous, and their time by the sea. 

I hope David joins them for the centennial and laughs about how he didn’t realize that pillows went into pillowcases.

Memory clouds. The future remains a dawn aloft.