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I tasted dark, ripe fruits,

The plum-red stain dyed

Crimson on my tongue - rebelliously sweet,

Sweeter than honey

Dripping from the comb.

I bathed my face, my body in it-

But instead of Satisfaction-Craving;

It seeped into my bones

My marrow stank with it.

Enough! Enough! I cried

But once tasted Hunger cannot be sated-

The curse encompasses Touch

The cells know the Master

And they obey- they obey!

How strange-then- infant fruits shall grow

One morsel-Satisfaction find-

Once crushed upon the ground the curse confined-

The reek of rotting fruit-

The soil fertile grows-

And makes a ruby stain

That waters thirsty ground.

Jimmy

Today the world lost a superhero. Jimmy was a camper who represented the epitome of Camp Harkness. He lived passionately, taking time to enjoy the small moments like telling a joke or patting you on the back. When his car pulled up on Sunday afternoons counselors flocked to greet him and most likely they would hear him saying "Hi ya prick". Only Jimmy could get away with calling someone that. I'll always think of him sitting on the beach at Harkness in some perpetual summer.

Losing campers is always extraordinarily difficult. Something magical happens at Camp Harkness. Its a place where you can be who you want to be. It really is the one place on earth (in my experience) where it doesn't matter what your capabilities are, how you look, or how much money you have. What counts is learning to be ok with who you and your limitations, and learning to be ok with others. Its challenging work. You do 14 hour shifts, sometimes are awake for most of the night, only have two nights off a week, and do a lot of direct care, but its also where the rubber meets the road. Its meeting people when they are vulnerable and finding that in order to do so, you have to be vulnerable too. Its the day you wake up and realize that you have learned more from the people you are "serving" than they ever have from you that you "get" it. Its being ok with the chaos and learning to embrace it. Its finding out that someone who is 30 years older than you, has a developmental disability, and a completely different life history can be a good friend, can make you laugh harder than anyone else ever has, and really isn't so different from you after all.

Camp is my favorite place on earth and my campers some of the best people I know. Jimmy was one of those and I am grateful for the opportunity to have spent 4 summers with him, living life and figuring out exactly how I fit into it.