Loons, Beavers, Red Squirrels and Nudists (now that I have your attention..)

The magic in the trees of Camp Robin Hood, may never look the same in my mind’s eye after seeing how one group visiting camp spent their leisure time.  More on that later..

Katherine Hepburn stands on the cabin porch “On Golden Pond” crying, “The loons, the loons are welcoming us back” (Or something like that). Once you hear the call of a loon, you have experienced lake-living in New Hampshire. Sometime after five this morning, I heard that solitary call. I heard it just once so far. Loon are solitary birds. Unless they are nesting or training their young, they swim by themselves. Their sleek bodies are longer and flatter than a duck, therefore their bodies are just about below the surface when they swim with their long necks and black beaks showing.  Unlike ducks, they don’t want to come near you for a morsel of food you might toss off the canoe. You just watch; the loons watch you back. Then you move on as do the loon.

Last night after ice cream, Doug heard a rustling in the trees next to our cottage. He also heard something gnawing on the trees. He tried to silently move toward the end of the porch to peer into the black night to see an outline of whatever animal was so close. The noise Doug made bumping a chair spooked the animal which then hustled down the slope and splashed into the dark lake. Doug determined it was a beaver. Across Danforth Bay, there is a small waterway, large enough for a canoe or kayak to maneuver in. Follow that creek and along the way, you’ll see beaver lodges. We’ll make that trip this week.

Right now, I hear a rustling in the trees. A red squirrel with a whNHMonboating_20090817_07ite belly has been very busy this morning. He was chirping and pecking at the trees. Now, he’s chewing something that’s about a third the size of him. It appears he’s chewing the bark off a small limb. OOPS, he dropped it. He’s looking down as if to say, “Aw, crap.” Doug thinks he dropped it intentionally because he’s done with it.NHMonboating_20090817_47

This is boating day on Lake Ossipee. We pick up the 18 foot speed boat at Lakefront Marina this morning. Cousin Barry and Joan from LA joined us for a morning of water skiing (Doug) and tubing (Adam and Andrew) on Lake Ossipee. We decided to pay a visit to Camp Robin Hood and have some lunch. We approached camp’s waterfront on Broad Bay as we have many, many times before. But as we got closer and the people visiting camp for a private event seemed somehow, different. Just as Doug or Barry made note of people in the nude I looked over as a man dove into the lake, au naturale. OK, folks, I’m no prude, but it’s broad (pun intended) daylight. This camp has been in my husband’s family history for decades (1927). The Friedman brothers who founded camp are surely chuckling in their graves today.

Andrew has another "first" experience..tubing

Andrew has another "first" experience..tubing

We got off our boat on the beach at camp and decided to go ahead toward the dining hall for lunch. We wanted to track down some of the camp brass to let them know we were visiting. First, we met a woman who was part of the artistic group that had rented camp for several days. She made a very big deal about US visiting and invited us to join them for lunch. She introduced my husband to the group as a whole, telling them Doug’s grandfather had founded Camp Robin Hood (along with his three brothers). The group applauded. I was mortified. We said hello to the camp owner and a few others we knew, then made our way into the dining hall. The artistic group had a special menu..all vegetarian and vegan. Very interesting, healthy and full of fiber. After a quick walk back to the waterfront, where people were still sunning themselves where the sun don’t shine, we sped away over Broad Bay (really, that’s the name of the bay, not another pun).  I am certain my 15-year-old son and his friend, Andrew will have stories to tell from the open and free way these folks so easily lived for some time. I feel as though I was in a time warp and was in my own little Woodstock. I don’t think I’ll ever see the camp waterfront in quiteNHMonboating_20090817_22 the same way again. By the way, I could have taken photos, but that would have been just wrong.

Our day of the lake was full of splashing, floating, sightseeing and eye-popping spectacles. Another dinner on the grill back at Danforth Bay..amd maybe out for ice cream. It’s oppressively hot, but the sun has set and it will certainly cool off. Sweet dreams from Danforth Bay.

Going to lunch

I worked for more than 30 years in the radio news business. ‘Tis true I never had a lunch break working radio news. In fact, at my last job, with deadlines every ten minutes or so, I found a few minutes about four hours into my shift to down a little breakfast. When a boss gave me more tasks to do during that period, I mentioned that was when I ate some breakfast. Her reply was, “Are you asking for a break?” I suppose a potty break and five minutes to down some instant oatmeal WAS too much to ask.

Now, I set my own schedule. I can cram four hours work into two or work late at night. Today, I decided to go to lunch. I took a walk down my block dressed in my bathing suit, cover-up, visor and SPF30 liberally sprayed on my skin and took a chair at the neighborhood pool. Some ice water and a cereal bar was all I needed. The scenery consisted of kids from baby-carriage size to teens along with moms and dads. The swim team was wrapping up practice. Little paddlers were getting swim lessons in the shallow end. A refreshing summer breeze cooled us off. I took a mini-vacation with a magazine. The sounds of the pool scene were intoxicating. Care-free with only fun on their minds, in between pages of my magazine, I watched a group of kids in the deep end playing tag; a boy about 8 years old, was watching in delight as his swim teacher showed him how to make a racing dive off the race platform. What a belly-flop! I mentally gave him a “7” for his enthusiasm and the attempt. I admired the patience of the swim teachers as little ones tried, tried, and tried again to carry out the kicking and arm strokes and blowing bubbles. So many tasks to coordinate with one little body!

An hour passed effortlessly and I knew it was time to walk home. My head was clear; my mood upbeat and no one asked whether I was getting all my work done. Granted, tripping and falling over an offset slab of concrete on the sidewalk did annoy me. (Seriously??) I don’t think anyone saw me take my spill and I just have a slightly skinned knee as proof of the klutzy moment. I’d rather take that fall than hear someone ask my if I was requesting a break. Guess what: I’m getting a work break for the first time in more than 30 years. Happy day!