Dear Boundless Families:
No rain since day 2. Its threatened on a few occasions, but nothing. Like a teenage hissy, the weather lately is more bark than bite.
My phone doesn’t ring. I see English students everywhere about. When not giggling or shrieking with their pals, their heads are down writing reflective pieces. Today it was about pleading your case before a metaphorical or literal God to get into heaven. Both groups have found a zone of comfort in this teensy weensy school. Some have declared the feeling to be the finest they have experienced in their academic lives.
So it has ironically begged the question among them, “Can we make it even better? Can we come together as a group in a deeper way?” These are the questions of the privileged, who feel so emotionally safe that they can afford the luxury of reaching for higher ground. Of course there has been some minor drama, but these kids are starting to own the place. They want even more. Quite extraordinary actually. They will return home more mature. An audacious claim, I admit – but just you wait and see.
The two outdoor crews have been gone for what feels like eons – the worrying grandma in me I suppose. And yet no news is the way you want it to be.
BOLD returns tomorrow, and then will start the climbing portion of their journey. They will relish the roof over their heads and a hot shower or two.
I join Lo Lo’s outdoor crew on the Dumoine tomorrow for the better part of two days – I am itching to get up to that paradise and see those kids of yours in action. I will bear chocolate. Copious amounts of the bribe. It will be devoured as a dessert with spaghetti at their Lac Robinson campsite (google it), whose beauty will take your breath away.
Things are lovely up here. I am so sad its ending soon. The nights are chilly now.
Here’s to a last few wonderful days.
Warm regards,
Steven
