The cool air started to blow in, and the heat radiated to all of the warm bodies sitting in a circle around the campfire. The
sounds of singing voices filled the cove on Sebago Lake, as the sun started to
set over the mountains in the distance, and the fire started to burn out with
it. In unison the voices became silent and the only thing that was heard was
the lapping of waves against the sandy beach, and the snapping and popping of
the logs in the fire. The warm glow of the fire was present on all of the faces.
But as the fire started to die and only embers were left, the girls stood
up and walked towards their cabins, laughing and talking.
When the girls were sheltered in their cabins and cozy in their beds, the sound
of Taps permeated the silence of the camp grounds. The campers fell asleep one
by one, their breathing becoming deep and even, dreaming of warm days, and
campfires to come. Now the night creatures were waking up and coming alive with
the sounds of the night. It was the shift from day to night. The night was waking up, the moon started to rise and it reflected on the ever moving lake. The sail boats rocked on their moorings, and the soft waves lapped against their hulls. The owls came out of their slumber, their call drifting across the lake, filling the quiet of the night. As it got later and later, and eventually turned to the next day, more and more creatures woke up and shared the night with the moon and the owls. It wasn’t long though, before the moon started to sink and the sun started to rise, showing the never-ending promise of the day to come. One by one the girls came out of their slumber, their dreams of warm days starting to become a reality.
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