nature – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

But Not Gone. The Memories Will Live Forever. Maybe Longer.

A few days ago, I went up to the camp I spent my pre-teen and teen summers in. It was there I made some of the best friends I ever had. We are still friends. At our campfire, I was sitting with people who said, “We’ve known each other for over forty years. We are old.” We are. For those of you that saw Chris Rock’s show, “The MotherF**ker with the Hat,” you might recall when Rock’s character told another you make all your friends from when you’re about five until college. That’s it. I agree. However, I have made some great friends after college. They are right up there.

I took a few rides to my section of the camp; parts have been shuttered since 1988. Other sections a decade plus later. As we drove in, tears fell out of my eyes. When we traveled along the trails and saw where many buildings stood, all but one have been knocked down. All are pieces of wood and cement foundations.

My site was the one closed in ’88. It used to have a dining hall, office, old school latrine, and many leantos (sleeping quarters). We had a terrarium. As a staff member, I helped build it many times. We had a giant treehouse.

Below our hill was a no longer functional dining hall, ball field, shower house, and usable dining hall. We had our own shower. We even had hot water. I say this because my first 2.5 summers or so we didn’t. You took ice-cold showers. Or walked to the shower house for hot water. I froze.

We had lots of fun singing songs in the dining hall. And no fun eating in it. Camp food was not enjoyable. The camp had several dining halls. Mine had the best food. But it wasn’t good. I walked by most of these sites.

The main site had movie nights in a once fully operational dining hall beneath my hill. My group did our movie nights in our palace (camp office). We often brought in McDonald’s, pizza and sandwiches from El Monaco’s, an Italian restaurant famed for its red sauce. BTW, the main dining hall was kosher. We were so reverent when we brought in other food.

After spending some time in my section, I went back to the main section. The next day, I went back. I went with one of my pals from a long time ago. We first went into the lake. Our section was closed off. We went into another site’s section. At different times, there were several operational camps around that beautiful lake. When I went, there was one.

Foundation Block for Double Decker Tip Pan Latrine

We walked through a swamp to get to the entrance of the lake. I found a spot with some rocks to leave our towels. We jumped in and swam like it was many years ago. We exited and walked back to the car. We spent some time by the now boarded-up main dining hall. We walked over to the old rifle range and found the foundation blocks that once held a two-floor, 8 – or 10-seater tip pan latrine. My site had the last of the tip pan latrines. It was a five-seater.

Our ball field where we played softball, volleyball, and ultimate Frisbee now looks like a tree farm. We went up to our site and looked where the terrarium was and where our small fields were where people sunned themselves. From the trail, we walked into our site. We saw the foundation where the shack was. Years before I got there, it housed tick tubes. That’s about all we saw. The site was laden with ferns, weeds, trees and mud. Am I happy it is gone? No. Am I happy nature took it back? Yes.

We hopped in the car and drove to the gate. I jumped out of the car, turned around, looked at the trail, locked the gate and said farewell as we drove away.

With or Without Your Phone or Your Nikon Camera

By Mitchell Slepian

I am not writing about Peter Gabriel, who wrote the hit “In Your Eyes,” or U2, whose hit “With or Without You” broke them into the major leagues of music. They were there well before that tune. Think of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” or their debut, “Stories for Boys.” Like Paul Simon, I have a Nikon camera and love to take photographs. I do have a Kodak Instamatic X-15. So, a Kodachrome, I can deal with. I bought it last summer at a street fair at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. This camera was introduced in 1963. By 1970, it had sold several million. Probably similar to the number of albums sold by Genesis, Gabriel’s solo work when he departed Genesis, and certainly U2. The man I bought it from told me it works. The other day, I was in B&H, and they told me they have film for it. I need to check the camera and see what I need. Remember film? In camp, my Assistant Scoutmaster Larry had a Polaroid. We took tons of shots that printed as they popped out of the camera.

But this story is not about cameras. But more about seeing things with your eyes. One of my closest friends is an eye doctor and a great swimmer (his swimming hole required excellent vision). Many of you have seen my photos. I share them via email and Instagram, and occasionally LinkedIn. I hope you enjoy what I have included.

Now, about seeing stuff in your eyes. I often spend weekends shooting photos at the Brooklyn or the New York Botanical Gardens, the South Street Seaport, and Museum Mile. Then, there are the days I go to one of the holiest places, Ten Mile River Scout Camps. It is a photographer’s paradise.

A few days ago, I saw the Psychedelic Furs at the Brooklyn Paramount. Before meeting a pal at the Original Junior’s Cheesecake (it’s across the street from the venue) for dinner before the show, I saw the Monet in Venice Exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum. Amazing. I had about two hours before what should have been a few subway stops away to Junior’s. So, I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, which is next to the Brooklyn Museum. Oh, as for what should have been, blame the MTA for making it several more stops and three different trains—life as a New Yorker.

I strolled the garden without my Nikon. I kept my iPhone in my pocket. I took in the beauty of the gardens with my eyes. It was incredible. I was just so amazed to look at the flowers with my eyes and not through a viewfinder with my thumb and index finger playing with the ISO and F stop. Or clicking away and texting images of the fountain. At this point in the season, many of the flowers are dying. That’s more of a song from The Cure. But there probably isn’t a better songwriter than Robert Smith. The Cure saved me. I am sure they have saved others. The gardens were magical. I thought a little more about what I was seeing. I wasn’t thinking about lighting and what I’d be doing with the images in Creative Cloud. It was simple. These days simplicity is missing.

This experience only makes me think, I need to go back to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and other places with less equipment. Of course, the shots I take make many people smile and create great conversations. Balance is what I need.

Tag: nature

Farewell

In Your Eyes