On summer camp and simpler times
🏕 🛶 🔥 🏹 📷
This week we’re leaning into the waning weeks of summer and keeping things short and light so you can spend time doing what you love and spending time with those you love before summer comes to an end.
Did you go to summer camp when you were a kid?
As I was reading The Morning briefing from The New York Times over breakfast on Thursday, an image caught my eye. It was the cover image of a guest essay by Josephine Sittenfeld about summer camp. The NYT had hyperlinked the words “fleeting magic of summer camp.” Intrigued, I took the bait.
The pictures had an atmospheric quality to them, instantly transporting me to a time and place far removed from my present reality (and the news — which that morning including wildfires burning Lahaina in Maui, a presidential candidate being assassinated in Ecuador, and a nurse kidnapped in Haiti being released). Ah, to be a kid again.
I finished my breakfast before I had time to read the essay. This morning, I made time to go back and read it — and I’m glad I did.
Substack rolled out features to support guest posts a while ago. While this isn’t a guest post, the effect is the same: I am introducing and turning this issue over to Josephine Sittenfeld.
In 1999, after my freshman year in college, I was a counselor at a camp in central Vermont. It changed my life.
-Josephine Sittenfeld (source)
Here is a link to her photo essay so you can read it (or just look at the pictures) too:
📷📖 I Wanted to Capture the Fleeting Magic of a Summer at Camp in Photographs (gift link)
I know some of you may not explore the links I include in each issue but please do this time. It’s the essence of this issue and I think you’ll enjoy the writing and perspective.
Josephine Sittenfeld notes:
Although I was technically hired as a ceramics counselor, I also appointed myself the unofficial photographer of Camp Killooleet. Even back then, I knew I would grow up and move on, and I wanted to hold onto all of it: the potted red geraniums on the dining porch windowsills, the ham and potatoes for Wednesday supper, the rutted mud puddles down the grassy fields created by campers on bikes. I wanted to freeze the smell of campfire in dirty hair, of a soggy bathing suit hanging in the cabin rafters, of a kid who is too young to wear deodorant but needs it. Camp felt magical. And inherently fleeting. By photographing it, I wanted to save it forever.
Do you have a favorite memory of camp? If so, please share in the comments and we can discuss in the subscriber chat this week. Bonus points if you have any old photos from camp to share!
These portraits capture those brief, intense summers and all of our youthful energy. They convey my deep connection to the place, my love and care for the people I knew back then, our intimate connections.
-Josephine Sittenfeld (source)
See more images of camp on her website. If you like photography:
🎵 Media Embed: Camp Granada
I remember this song from my childhood. I had no idea who sang it but found it funny. The lyrics are a letter sent home from camp. As we head into the weekend, I encourage you to listen and laugh (3m05s). I promise you (and your kids if you have any) will be smiling by the end of it.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend, whatever you choose to do.
Be well,
-Bryce