Our little town is full of working professionals and has a ton of summer camp options, but there's nothing quite like the camp at the Friends School. The kids spend a significant time every day in a forest "village" of their own making, and each group's space becomes a testimony to their imagination. On the last day of camp, I followed D and his cousin C (imported from Maryland for the week) into the woods for a tour.
My memory of childhood trips is full of my sister's discoveries of "treasures." These were usually items that someone else had discarded, or never even noticed in the first place, but which took on the luster of spun gold when looked at in just the right way. C takes after her mother in her ability to find magic where others see dirt and rocks; the next two pictures are hers: