July 31, 2017

corn field at dusk
fireflies amidst the tassles
seeking each other

July 30, 2017

fledgling cardinals
still wobbly, working out 
this whole flying thing

July 29, 2017

our moonlit shadows
leading the way as we walk
hand in hand

July 28, 2017

Our Lady of Sorrows
a bagpiper in a kilt
gets out of his truck

(for V.P.)

July 27, 2017

slowing down
as we head into the curves
midlife birthday party

July 26, 2017

the cardinal’s bright flight
just inches above the grass
I forget to breathe

July 25, 2017

feisty hummingbirds
chasing off a swallowtail
flying garden fight

July 24, 2017

the sound of car keys
tossed down on the table
knowing he’d made it home

July 23, 2017

my father’s journals
I think about fallen trees
and the holes they leave

July 22, 2017

patio umbrella
cardinals sitting silently
as the rain pours down

July 21, 2017

July 20, 2017

driving past Newtown
I try to write the sunset
as the colors dim

July 19, 2017

we climb the tall dune
to look over Pilgrim Lake —
which blue is on offer?

July 18, 2017

the shy smiles of girls —
surprise, or recognition...
I smile right back

July 17, 2017

tall, gone-to-seed grass
sun-brightened, wind-tossed —
my fingers, Earth's comb

July 16, 2017

unfamiliar bird song —
the first day warm enough
for your sleeveless shirt

July 15, 2017

every night
the stars a little brighter
well-burnished love

July 14, 2017

land in sight again
the part of the ferry trip
that never gets old

July 13, 2017

mid-July morning
mushrooms pushing their way up
through the fog

July 12, 2017

“Look at me, Mommy!”
all day from the next site over
childhood’s soundtrack

July 11, 2017

songs after the rain
birds renegotiating
their territory

in the darkness
between sunset and moonrise
we find each other

July 10, 2017

how hard it is
on a day deep in sunshine
to believe in rain

July 09, 2017

we discover
at the end of our long drive
the spider that tagged along

July 08, 2017

We are so grateful to call N. Truro home for a few weeks every year!

We'd love to hear from you... it's easy to call camp and ask them to leave us a note on the camp message board. (They don't mind, truly.) 

That number (good from July 10th through the 20th or so) is 508/ 487-1191, and office hours are pretty much all day with the exception of meal breaks from noon-1pm and again from 6-7pm.

Even if you don't have a chance to send a message our way, we know we can count on you to send warm wishes and healing thoughts... right? And a special thanks to our fabulous neighbors, who are keeping watch on our little house until we get back.

(For a glimpse at previous years' adventures, 
see post-camp posts from 
2015, 20142013201220112010200920082007, and 2006.)

July 07, 2017

butch summer haircut
even my shadow
seems to smile

July 06, 2017

bike as time machine
my friend and I compare
when we last felt free

(for V.S.)

July 05, 2017

rising with the moon
names of old friends I forget
to remember

July 04, 2017

July Fourth fireworks
we stay home in jammies
to comfort each other

July 03, 2017

late night walk
we swing wide to give the skunk
all the room

July 02, 2017

unsharpened pencil
we wait for the concussion
to fade

July 01, 2017

cooler air
slipping in behind the storm
his apology