I always have a writing project planned while I’m at camp. This year, I have several, including this blog. For two summers, I was lucky that my university supported my writing projects with grant money. Ordinarily, I stay very busy writing for at least the first few weeks I’m at camp—mostly during the rainy days of June, before I “settle in” as my mother would say. By mid July the humidity usually sets in. It makes the crackers soggy, the toilet paper damp, the salt unshakeable, and me lazy. I set aside my writing and spend the muggy days sitting on the newly painted deck , making a bigger dent in my stack of novels than my research books. At last I feel settled in to lazy lakeside living. Some places, like an ocean beach, are best when arrived at. But the lake is best for settling in, which is infinitely more satisfying than arriving.
From my reading (note how I rationalize my laziness):
“The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room, not try to be or do anything whatever.” —May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude