When a kid returns from camp, whether from a day, a week, or a season, there will be single socks, someone else's sweatshirt or shoes, wet swimgear and wet whatever has come in contact with it, sticky but empty treat wrappers, something damp in the bottom of a bag that had best not be probed too thoroughly, natural treasures especially things sandy and smelly from a trip to the beach and an enhanced vocabulary.
Last night there was a bitter loon battle in our little bay. In the end, the baby chick was dead, and the rogue loon who fought the father loon was on shore, stunned/injured. It was quite an evening. Here's what happened.
The Luckiest Boy
One never knows when some person or some event is going to come to town which kind of riles things up a bit. Before you know it, there's chatter amongst the locals and summer folk about what is or isn't happening. Most always, the rumors get modified over and over to the point that the gossip has no relation to the original event. Well, that happened in the greater Belgrade area in the late '70s. Word was that one of our own summer folks had written a play called On Golden Pond. Not only that, but the movie folks from New York and California wanted to make it into a movie.
This was another busy summertime week in the Belgrades. I spent some time early in the week hacking down some Japanese knotweed, but also hiked up Mt. Phillip and managed to get in a bit of fishing.