I don’t think any singular place on the planet has made a greater impact on my life than Hog Island. Certainly my home places have formed who I have become, but finding myself on Hog in 1981, when I was 31, and finding it intertwined with Emily Dickinson’s story, changed my life. Ever since I’ve been writing poetry myself and collecting whatever I could about Mabel Loomis Todd and her family of island benefactors. And, of course, there is the book I am writing about the Todd Binghams, most particularly how Mrs. Todd was a Nature lover, not unlike her reclusive neighbor in Amherst, Emily Dickinson.
So it won’t be any surprise for you to learn that following my first fortnight on Hog Island, I immediately wanted to share the place with those I love. The year following my going to camp, my then-spouse, Chris took her two-week turn in the Audubon program there, thanks to the generosity of a Dayton Audubon Society scholarship, one like I had been awarded. Things didn’t turn out for us like I had hoped, but upon marrying Cindy Lou ten years later, one of the first places I had to take her was Hog Island. It didn’t take Ms. Cooke long to understand what the place has meant to me.
So after we got permission from Noah’s mother for me to steal him away to Maine and points east for a summer adventure, I began one of my favorite winter practices: planning upcoming summer travel. And with Noah? On Hog Island? Heart be still!
I think I have admitted here on The Back Porch somewhere how I have miscalculated plenty of times what Noah should be capable of doing at his age. When he was 3, he took up shovel with me and dove right in to digging the hole for our little backyard pond. Ever since, I suppose, I’ve figured him to be my junior partner.
So on this trip to Maine -- to that place of magic I have known for half my life -- I figured he would be my front seat traveling buddy. You know, scope out the maps and know exactly where we are; have change ready for tolls; enjoy the pastoral countryside of northern Pennsylvania passing just beyond our windshield. Didn’t turn out quite that way.
Instead, Noah wanted nothing more than to lose himself in electronic gaming. Let’s see: He had his iPod, broken glass and all, but somehow still operational. If the power went low on that one, he could always use my iPhone. (‘No, we’re not going to buy another game for the phone’ x 25) And, of course, next on the hit list was my music-filled iPod loaded with a few of his favorite games.
By mid-day two of travel east it was obvious Noah wasn’t interested in scenery as he contorted all over the seat next to me, seat belted, trying to get a better view of his broken iPod screen. When he eventually got upside down, I became a bit exasperated and told him to jump in the back seat and make a little ‘nest’ for himself. Off he went and with the two pillows we brought, propped himself up in a corner. As far as I can figure, travel for him was a whole lot better the rest of the way with the new arrangement.
When we got to camp, as mentioned in my last blog, I figured Noah and I would be paired up doing lots of stuff over the week. But on Sunday afternoon’s first activity, he had already broken from me and found a new buddy to play with. I was taken aback, but immediately realized that with Noah acting out with another, I could have amazing photo ops all week. Trust me, I got some good stuff!
I titled this entry ‘Expectations,’ because I had a few when the Hog Island adventure with Noah began exactly one month ago today. Still, I was much aware that this island event was really about him: What would Noah find? What would really turn him on? How would he do with other kids? Would he end up loving Hog Island like me?
The very human grandfather in me so wanted to connect with the kid and have him see some things special in the spruce woods and upon the lovely lobster-floated Muscongus bay waters. And yet I knew that my experience would be enhanced by just letting go -- of him and my expectations -- and just be present for the week. There was a warm zen mindfulness to such an approach, and I have to say, I am glad I embraced it. I got to feel that I was a kind of home base for him on island, and that he could range far and wee to discover what he could with friends and on his own. And he did it well, too.
I don’t know what Family Camp will mean to Noah in the long run. I do know that we had a damned fine time while we were gone. Cindy Lou senses something deeper between us. I do like the sparkle in the kid’s eye and the smile on his face.
I know, too, that Noah has been an amazing source of surprise for Grandma and me over the years. Just when you think you know the guy, he pops off with some little nugget of wisdom that makes the two of us look at each other and smile. Sure, we expect Noah to be an upstanding human being, but beyond that, we’re open to where he will take us.
Today’s Elder Idea: This island is so beautiful it really makes my heart ache! Why, it seems to me God's own heaven can hardly be more perfect.
journal of Mabel Loomis Todd
August 9, 1924
images: Thanks to Trudy Phillips!
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