Friday, 22 July 2016

Fancy Dress Fun Time!

Hello from the bottom of the track, where this morning we waved goodbye to The Barn - an awesome youth group from the Gorbals in Glasgow. It. Was. Awesome.

We swam in the sea (a lot) and had an epic camp on Market Bay with giant marshmallows and sand sculptures. We explored caves - the little whisky cave behind the buildings, and the bog old Fingal's cave on Staffa. We ate yummy food and kayaked and climbed and abseiled. Everyone from the week shared stories around the camp fire and got well versed in the art of Mafia. One highlight from the week was on Tuesday night when an incredible thunder and lightning storm crashed all around us - at first we saw it coming down the track like a monster approaching, soon it was crashing on all sides and bouncing off the quarry. There was no fear - only lots of very excited Camas staff and young people, and even a rain dance on the lawn. 

Our week ended with an epic fancy dress party. For those of you who don't know, Camas staff love few things more than to dress up and be silly. Below are some pictures of our costumes...

This afternoon we are heading to the start of the Mull Gala. We are entering into a scarecrow competition which we feel destined to win (despite the Coastguard's attempts to thwart us!). If you're on Mull keep your eyes peeled for a kayaker making his way down the waterfall at the top of the Camas track, for those of you on the mainland we will post photos soon! 

Saturday, 2 July 2016

Contemplations on a Track

This week we have:
A poem by Joshua Enns 
A photograph by Rachel Daniels

Between Edges

A shelf of rock usually submerged 
free to breathe air like 
a staircase.

My feet followed swiftly
towards the edge  
of the falling waves.

I walked on the edge of it. 

Land or water,
time changes all. 

But that between place stays
and shows itself

A hill beyond

bog cotton clouds.  

between air and water
in mist. 

Shifting yet solid. 

Just past the heather,
mud and wood 
mark a track.

A muffled cuckoo's call
beckons beyond the baying
of lambs
from the hidden hill
to that place between