This week’s “Because of Girl Scout Camp” Entry is from Ash, who is our Art Program Director at Magic Sky Ranch! Sometimes it’s hard to tell who gets more out of camp…the campers or the staff and volunteers!
Cliff Lake
As we came over that final dirt covered hill, our excitement began to build. I hadn’t been back to the crystal blue Cliff Lake in a whole year, and the anticipation was killing me. I was a Counselor-in-Training (CIT) at Magic Sky Ranch the summer before my junior year in high school. My unit was filled with girls who loved camping and nature, so I was excited to show them the lake. I hoped that the graham cracker beaches hadn’t changed, and that I could still stick my feet in the pockets of warmth hidden in the sand.
Thankfully it was as beautiful as I could remember. Its stone cold cliff raised high above the lake and left a stunning reflection on the surface of the water. It dwarfed the evergreen trees standing next to it like an army of soldiers preparing to protect their peace of utopia. I knew I was back, and I never wanted to leave again. We walked along it perfect shore until we came to a water-stained bridge that seemed as if it had been there since the beginning of time. It looked as if it was made of the same wood that protected the lake from all the elements, unfortunately the army of evergreens did not protect its wooden counterpart. We had to go across one-by-one in fear that the bridge might break loose of its screws and fall into the flawless water below. Once every girl had crossed the lake safely, we continued on a small
one
person
path
of
earth
that lead to the bronzed beaches I had longed for. We hopped across the limestone boulders to the center of the lake where the counselors and I pulled out the art supplies so the girls could draw whatever they desired in this slice of perfection. They dumped out the crayola crayons, and unexpectedly they rolled into the lake. Flashes of candy apple red, periwinkle, granny smith apple, and other crazily named crayons reflected in the water stained sand below. I knew that it would be my job to retrieve them. That was our jobs as CIT’s, we needed to protect out girls, and I wanted to make sure that none of their first memories of Cliff Lake were bad. I removed my digital watch, and thrust my hand into the sparkling water. A frosty chill crept up my arm, and a shiver ran through my body. The crayons were a great deal deeper then I thought they would be. It felt like it would take me an eternity to fetch the crayons from the bottom of the flawless lake.I thrust my hand deeper,
and deeper,
and deeper into the water until I felt my fingers wrap around the crayons. I jerked my hand up in a sharp, speedy movement until I could no longer feel the stabbing chill of the icy water against my arm. I opened my hand and the brown sand leaked from my palm as if it had never belonged there in the first place, leaving only the crazily named crayons behind. I put the crayons back in the box and closed it up while I instructed the girls to only take one crayon out of the box at a time. I hopped backed to the beaches, took my shoes off and plunged my feet into the sunburned sand I had longed for. The pocket of warmth heated my toes up to a toasty temperature. I sat basking in the warmth of my personal slice of perfection, dreaming of other moments in time as perfect as this one.