The Valley
It is a setting of wonder and contradiction
A place where the mind and body wander
Deep
Hidden among the mountains
A deafening CRACK
Everyone flinches
As wicked beryl lines dance across the gray sky
Thunder booms through the Valley
This is nature
In its infinite might
Laughing
Mt Shannon
Overlooks all
The tremendous promontory
Like a natural border
Between the Valley and the backcountry
Everyone comes to the amphitheater
A grand outdoor show unfolds
Blue and green clad troubadours appear
The camp staff perform betwixt two broad fires
While flames lick at the Valley’s offerings
Logs and kindling given new life
Providing light
For skits, songs, and stories
Relayed far into night
The erratic towers over the old council ring
Ceremonies unfold before its presence
A monolith from a different time
Brought deep into the forests
When the glaciers carved the Valley
As the woods beyond are obscured by rain
The ground mired
I can only wait within a tent
Lazily watching from under a tarp roof
Respite
From the Valley’s torrents
A bald eagle soars overhead
A smooth, feathery body held aloft by outstretched wings
Floating on thermals
Above the humid Valley
There is a shout
All firearms are silenced
Something comes on to the range
An albino porcupine
Not unlike a furry snowball
Slinks out into the open
A paradox common to the Valley
Fishermen are startled
As a wretched turtle emerges
An algae cloaked beast
Old as the Valley itself
Its complexion as mystic and ancient
As the depths of Lake Eileen
Late in the Valley
Staff gather
A circle of sharp azure uniforms
Staring thoughtfully into a bonfire
The heat intense in the cold night
As they reflect on events past and present
Pondering what the next day will bring
Not a sound was heard in the Valley
Save for three staff
A woman and two young men
Who sat on a dock
Quietly chatting
Peacefully mulling over
The intricate constellations and immeasurable galaxies
Crystal clear in the great mural above
In the off season
Like a blanket of snow
Silence settles over the Valley
Once so full of energy
Now a hollow ambience
Waiting for the next summer
Experiencing Camp Hidden Valley
More by Andrew Knight
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In Darkening Dolennan
There is still much unexplored on the forest floor,
Unseen beneath the boughs of endless trees
In darkening Dolennan, the hallowed Holtmark
When light is foregone and shadows grow stark
Upon shimmering Dûenedril and shrouded hill -
At the Gates of Angband
Fingolfin hesitated, standing there before the immense doors that rose far above him.
Why? Why am I here? This is madness.
-
A local Lúthien
"Andy, can I hug you?"
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