It’s as dreary a day as you’ll find in New York City. Rainclouds frown in the darkened sky, sending minions of angry droplets hurtling down toward the busy streets below. An ominous orchestra of timpani-drums thunders and echoes and thunders again, adding soundtrack to the storm. It’s the kind of day you might enjoy if you’re in the mood to curl up on the couch and read a book. Except I’m not in that kind of mood.
I’m stuck inside my apartment alone. My roommates are at work, and a day that was supposed to involve words like “Central Park” and “frolicking” and possibly “ice cream” is not going according to plan.
For some reason, I’m thinking about Camp Monroe.
It may seem a little counterintuitive that a thunderstorm is triggering daydreams of Monroe. Camp is about sunshine and activity. It’s about basketball and boating and being outside on the beautiful grounds. Maybe I’m programmed to relate everything to camp, but when you think about it, rainy days at Monroe are also quite incredible.
It’s a blessing to be shacked up in a bunk with your best friends; telling stories, joking, laughing. Rainy days are a chance to get to really know your bunkmates and cement relationships. They’re like ready-made all-day slumber parties. On rainy days, we invent alter egos and parallel universes, write songs and practice dance moves, and engage in spirited games of Bananagrams and Rummikub.
And who doesn’t love the enormous games of dodgeball in the social hall? Or the exciting games of bingo in the Mess Hall? (That’s right, somehow at camp, games of bingo become exciting. Only At…)
So as I sit here on this depressing day in New York City, I long for camp. I wish I could trade this chair for a bunk bed and replace this computer with the faces of my Camp Monroe family.
Fortunately, summer will be here in just one month, and I will return home to Monroe. I hope we have a beautiful season, full of sunshine and activity. But when those inevitable rainy days hit, I will remember how lucky I am to be at Camp Monroe.