Top: Francesca’s Boutique | Shorts: vintage via Melrose Trading Post | Shoes: H&M | Bracelets: c/o my campers!!!
photography by Chandler Ryan
Blueberry picking is something I only do at camp. Not that I wouldn’t do it anywhere else, or at other times of the year, but it just so happens to be blueberry season in the summer. Sam Mazza’s blueberry farm is magical. I always pick many more blueberries than I should, but this time especially I went way overboard. I had only blueberries for breakfast, snacked on them before (during, and after) every meal, and had a half of a pint left over for the next day. It was a little bit of blueberry overkill, and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to stomach blueberries for quite a while, but it was all worth it. Aside from the blueberries themselves, going through the rows on rows on rows of blueberry bushes is incredibly calming. It’s a perfect escape from busy and downright crazy days at camp.
I realized today at approximately 2:50pm that exactly a week from that moment I would be finishing my second class of my Sophomore year of college. I did not like that at all. Camp is one of those places that is hard to understand unless you’re there. Everything you think about at camp is camp — campers, leadership, leaders, staff, camp activities, next summer, the summer after that, summer 50 years from now, rest hour, tomorrow’s rest hour, what’s for lunch, what’s for dessert, what’s for dessert tomorrow, your campers again, other peoples’ campers, etc., etc., etc. Even on days off, we walk through the rows of blueberry bushes talking about silly things campers do during rest hour, catch up on camp gossip, and imagine what we’re missing while we’re away from camp for 24 hours. A lot of my friends have gone back to school already. They are preparing for sorority recruitment, moving into their dorms, getting ready for classes and mentally preparing for the year to come. At the same time I’m stacking plates at meal times, refereeing team competition soccer games and singing my cabin to sleep every night. It’s a weird limbo state that camp puts you in, especially towards the transition time at the end of the summer. The good thing is that every summer I leave camp with a newfound confidence, appreciation for the stars and uniquenesses and warm showers, and a readiness to take on the world one step at a time. It’s just hard to transition so quickly from a seemingly utopian place like camp right into school, especially college, within 48 hours. Hopefully my first few weeks at school will be as full of laughter and silliness and girl power and blueberries as camp is.