Swamp Song

My first job out of college was Music Director at a summer camp. Having partied pretty hard my senior year, sitting in a quiet Music Room overlooking a lake sounded pretty nice. Plus I would get extra pay, for being a part-time camp counselor, then be excused afternoons to plan night-time music. No drinking was allowed, but the head counselor enjoyed his herb, claiming a responsible toke kept us all sane. So he acted as Spirit Guide, whisking us off for a quick buzz, asking if we had any hazardous activities planned, as he was safety-guide too. I started liking the woods, so I scheduled a hike for my cabin, of 8 middle-schoolers, with famous Hikemaster Hal, a Zen-like survivalist. Hal agreed, and appeared magically at our cabin later, leading us silently into the woods. We came upon a swamp. How would he handle it? A rope bridge? An unseen, raised trail? He waded into the swamp, and for two hours we trudged, waist-deep, then chest-deep through thick, black, bug-swarming, vermin-infested mud. I was increasingly baffled, and angry. He didn’t say a thing. What was being taught? We finally climbed up and out, directly behind the cabins. He nodded as he turned to leave. I yelled, “What happened to the hike?” He replied calmly, “That was the hike.” I showered, miffed, and headed for a much-needed, emergency toke with the head-counselor. He laughed deeply, saying, “I think you just learned the whole secret of camp! Maybe life..from Zenmaster Hal. All in one day. You’re a lucky man!” That night I was scheduled to lead a sing-along version of “Turn, Turn, Turn,” but hadn’t had time to learn the verses, or print hand-outs. But I took the hall-stage anyway, guitar in hand, and began singing, “To every thing Turn Turn Turn. There is a season Turn Turn Turn”.. Then I paused, and launched into a semi-stoned monologue about how there is a time for nature, and a time to turn away from nature. A purpose for camp, and a season to leave camp.. A time to walk into a swamp, and time to walk out of the swamp! I may have turned, before reprising the opening. Nodding thankfully, I left the stage to muted applause. No one asked what happened to the song, but if they had I might have replied, “That was the song.”