I spent the day today on the actuality of an island. Cole started summer camp on a small atoll in Biscayne Bay, and I joined him to teach journaling to the young campers. That’s journaling, not journalism: The art of keeping a journal. I’ve visited Cole’s classes and schools a few times over the years, but this is the first time I’ve tried to teach kids. Fortunately, the campers at Shake-A-Leg Miami’s Eco-Island Adventure Camp are patient and wise. They listened, mostly, while I bored them with Thoreau. And once I told them they could draw as well as write, they dug in with their pencils.
Shake-A-Leg is a magician’s den, where miracles are created daily. Here is Cole’s schedule for the day: Science, Music, Water Sports, Art. All of it taking place on an island, reachable only by boat. Isn’t such a place a fantasy of youth?
Of course, there are issues. Just as I was getting ready to end the day by teaching Cole’s group, Nature had other plans. The Miami skyline disappeared in gray, and soon the sky was water, and thunder and lightning were one. We all scurried back to land and shelter on a boat. Now circumstance has bonded us. I’m going to have to go back tomorrow to teach Cole’s group. What a drag (not).