I survived another weekend at my home away from home. It was pretty cool to be wandering through Ojai again. It was even better to walk through camp and visit my favorite places there.
It was interesting to see what had changed and what was still the same. I went to the spot where I fell in love and the place where I had my heart broken.
I stared at the place where I had my first real kiss, lingered at the bench where I learned a dear friend was going to die and just absorbed the day.
And I played Shabbos basketball. Shabbos ball at camp is an age old tradition. I felt like I was 16 again as I couldn’t wait to stop davening so that I could begin davening on the court. It was awesome.
It was surreal, and special and entertaining. And it was bittersweet. I missed people who should have been there and I missed knowing that I only had to wait for Summer to roll around again and I would be back. Camp is over for me and I am trying to figure out what my role with it should be.
Indian Summer never ends, does it.