Goodnight friends! Last full day of camp, I’m in a long, mild stupor of slow exhaustion after another day of workshops and panels and cuddling on sloping meadows. From up the hillside I can faintly hear the distant midnight whooping of sturdier, more energetic queers revelling. Fatigue is heavy and general, not an intense sensation mainly because I spaced out activities fairly well I think, but a dragging anchor nonetheless and I try to recognise and diffuse a periodic swell of panic – this does end, I do have an exit plan and tools to facilitate rest.
A little chillier, damp winds bringing less rain but more pale, fishscaly clouds that dimmed the afternoon light. First peeking hint of the pink willowherb flowers that will crown meadow-edges everywhere before long.
May we find a sense of compassionate, sensitive self-restraint today, recognising and not trying to snatch the seeming prize that may hurt us, allowing time and space to listen and learn from other voices.
