So yesterday, or Sunday depending on whether you start the week on Sunday or not, was that start of my last week in Bellingham for a while. I feel that when things begin to come to a close people often try and make the last things the best things. I have seen much of this in the ending of many summers at Firwood. And in the sometimes hectic scramble to achieve that bestest best last thing disappointment often slides its sneaky way into any number of situations. So many times have I seen things planned to be just perfect for the final whatever-it-was and go slightly, or terrible, askew. If the last thing is not perfect….well….frick. I am no stranger to that controlling desire, but have slowly learned that that approach may not be the best way. In years at Camp Firwood especially, I have learned a sort of acceptance of the end, whatever that entails. Rarely now do I try and cram everything-possibly-fun-that-I-will-never-do-again-or-at-least-for-a-long-while in at the last moment, but it often turns out that way anyhow. The things one wants to do again one last time find their way to the forefront. What I am trying to say, I suppose – in my ever-increasing feebleness as my mind’s thoughts scatter themselves about the room and I try and catch them and type them away – is that the end is not necessarily a time to control. Sit back, take a deep breath, and smile and you joyfully and contentedly accept whatever the end of a something will bring. Hardly do I want to worry about anything; rather I would like to just soak it all in. I read in a book once (I read sometimes) that a great man once said ‘The sweetest music of all is the music of what happens.’ Take from that what you will.
All this to say that while I would certainly be ok with letting the week be what it may, there are certain things I would like to see accomplished. I want to spend time with friends- Ty, Keaton, Riley and Brayden, and any number of others. I want to spend time in the forest, walk around Whatcom Falls for the millionth time (still an amazing place), swing on a swing, climb some trees. More or less breathe in the kind of things that consist of my life here; the immense blessings received, the beauty of the hills in the sunset, the things to take with me. And just as a side-note, I have been thinking about the bizarre fact that Robbie Watson, boy of the forest, will be living in the heart of a city of a few million. Pray for that one, because sometimes when I visit Seattle I get really antsy and jump into the first sizable trees I can find. They have pretty decently sized parks in Rome, so I should be ok. They also have a wealth of very ancient things just about everywhere which should keep me pretty well occupied in the moments that I miss the green hills of Washington the most. But anyway here is the end of day two (or three) of my last week in Bellingham….for a while. Making the final preparations, I wonder what the rest of the week will hold. Well, friends, I suppose we shall see.