Under the Stars

The tree tops are darkening with the setting sun, the frogs are starting to croak their lullabies, and the field is filled with giggles and patches of colorful sleeping bags. The center of every circle is a propane lantern glowing behind the flying mosquitoes; each lantern provides light and comfort to all the women and girls who surround them.

Friday night started with all of us cleaning out our cabins and putting all of our luggage into the hutchin (open air kitchen in each group of cabins) with our sleeping bags and pillows on top. Then we would grab our flashlights and bug spray and head to the waterfront for the closing campfire. Up the hill past the lodge, down the other side and around the corner to the amphitheater, we took our seats ready to sing all the songs we had learned throughout the week.

Rounding the corner of the gravel road you turn to see the raging bonfire in the raise fire circle right in front of the serene Lake Langlois. The ducks pace around wading for all the campers to come and take their seats, we wait for the songs to start. We start out loud and rowdy, then the songs get softer and quieter as the sun goes down. The campfire ends with all the staff walking down to the waterside to line up and sing us the goodnight song, then they slowing pass out candles to each other and line the gravel road back to the ranch. Without being told the campers walk down the glittering road quietly between musical notes and flames that fill the air.

While we campers go and get our sleeping bags our counselors grab a large tarp to claim our part of the ranch field. Many different colors of sleeping bags and pillows litter the giant field as we all brush our teeth and then tuck into our bags for the night. The campers all giggle and squirm while the counselors all chat or start to sing, as the darkness falls deeper and the stars shine brighter. Before you know it the hundreds of bodies are silent and sleeping while the rest of us watch the sky and enjoy the moment.

As a camper this special night was always my favorite, sleeping out under the stars with nothing but nylon and feathers between the night sky and me. It was laying in this field that I saw my first shooting star, it was in the field that I got the best night’s sleep every summer that was the night I had the most trust as I slept. As a counselor it become the night that I was able to provide that same magic to my campers, and it was still my favorite night of the week.