There are three signs that nature sends us every summer to let us know that camp is fleeting; going too fast. First we see the Canadian geese overhead, in tight V formation flying low over Mitchell Field heading south in advance of the cold. You can hear the squawking as they approach, zeroing in on their flight path.
Next is the sight of the first red leaves. Usually, you can find them down by the lake. There they are, on the tips of the tallest trees, red, yellow and gold waving in the breeze coming off Lake Greeley. It’s always the first week in August, just before Color Days, color!
And finally there are the crickets. They start at dusk, just as the sun goes down over the tree tops above the girls pool. You can hear just a few, here and there, during the month of July. The sound gets louder each week. Louder and louder, a crescendo, until the final days of camp, when they sound like a symphony. Sometimes you have to raise your voice to be heard over the cacophony of sound.
The smell of pines, the sight of a Milky Way of stars above, the feel of brisk mountain air and the happy crazy sound of crickets.