A Love Letter

Thursday, July 9th, 2026

RAINBOW THEATER circa 5:03pm—The afternoon heat revels in its breezeless glory. The sun shines down and reflects upward off of the bleached earth, evenly toasting campers from all directions. Here in the theater, we are protected by a large shade, though the fact that I can see my shadow here betrays some amount of permeability. I tune my guitar as my fellow teachers arrive for rehearsal.

“Experimento, now rehearsing at the Rainbow Theater,” says Performance Coordinator José Garcia over the PA. He hands the wireless mic back to Tech Lead Momo Calfe Smith who switches off the mic and mutes the channel on the sound board. In the Front row, ASL Instructor Phaedra Kossow-Quin reviews signs with her pupils who sit in a neat row on the stage’s apron. Backstage, just behind the Rainbow, Longsword Instructor Dylan Sears wrangles his foam-wielding padawans.

I review the chord changes with Teen Staff Xing Liang on bass while Teen Staff Oliver settles into a groove on the drum kit. We vamp on E-flat and C7 for a while, and then G minor, C7, F, F7, and repeat. We’re playing “Easy to Be Hard”, not the Three Dog Night version I grew up with, but the original Broadway cast recording from Hair. Momo runs mics to strategic locations as we practice.

Before long we are running the act from the top, young actors singing and moving through swordplay, ASL pupils signing the lyrics. The group stops and starts every 30 seconds or so to receive notes from the various teachers. Thankfully a cool breeze has arrived, undulating the trapezoidal shade like a manta ray.

“You’re gonna come over here and tap his shoulder,” says José to one actor. “Then when this slow-motion thing happens, the swords will chop in front.”

“Okay, switch your swords from your right hand to your left,” adds Dylan. “Take your right hand and touch your heart.”

The rehearsal routine continues for about 30 minutes before the end of the song is finally reached. “Okay, one last time from the top, ready or not!” exclaims José. With 5 minutes left in our rehearsal slot, we brace ourselves for a no-stops runthrough.

TIPI CIRCLE circa 7:14pm—In our post-dinner free time, I’m out in the field to track down some participants from this afternoon’s rehearsal.

“So ‘Experiemento’ is a word for musical theater, but short, like one song,” explains Issa, 12. “Personally I think it’s very underrated; more people should come. I learned how to express myself, and I learned the lyrics to a new song! José is super cool.”

“We get a lot of tips from José,” says Teen Staff Piper, “There’s lots of ways to do things, and there’s always new ways to make it better. Obviously we’re developing singing, and acting skills, cheating out, grabbing attention and so on, but we’re also learning how to receive feedback and building confidence.”

“The Experimento community is very supportive,” says Sparrow, 12. “José says it’s better to be proud and wrong rather than quiet and right. It’s fun because we’re learning multiple things at once: singing, dancing, acting… Even though a lot of kids that go to it are kinda crazy, that just means it’s gonna be more fun.”

“I’m in Experimento for ASL, interpreting the song for the performers,” says Fela, 12. “I like seeing how words can become hand signs. My favorite sign so far is ‘opossum’,” she says, linking her pinkies and swinging one hand below the other. “It’s because they swing from branches with their tails. Phaedra teaches us anything we want to sign as long as it’s appropriate.”

“Dylan is a great longsword teacher,” says Liev, 14. “He is very knowledgeable and gives historical context. For example, I had no idea the German style uses as much of the false side of the sword as it does. It’s weird because it’s basically absent in the Italian style.”

“Next, I’ll tap six for a Beacon of Immortality, bringing my health to 96,” continues Liev, seamlessly switching back to his Magic the Gathering game. “Then I’m going to swing at you with a Blossoming Bog Beast and Aerith Gainsborough.”

“Experimento is cool because we get to sing with friends and practice together,” says Zosia, 11. “I’m learning how to combine acting and singing. You have to follow instructions and run it again and again, but in the end it all comes together.”

“I thought rehearsal went really well,” says José. “Like all young singers, they learn a song, and then once you add movement, they lose track of the pitch and the lyrics. But the kids looked really great, and they wanted to run it over and over, which is great because it means they are really owning it. I’m still working out the ending, maybe a collective ‘ohmmmm’. The title of this act will be ‘A Love Letter to Jah and Wavy’.”

“The kids were focused, engaged, and soulful,” says Dylan. “For me studying swordplay is about figuring out how we interact with each other and ourselves; it’s a laboratory for understanding conflict, both outer and inner. Ultimately it becomes a pathway to peace. The best sword is the one that stays in its scabbard.”

“I love to teach kids about the interpretation process,” says Phaedra. “It’s more than putting the English words in the same order, it’s about pulling out the meaning, and then figuring out the best way to express it. This act is about coming together for a message of peace, and I think that’s kick-ass. Can I say that?”

I ask her to sign “kick-ass” and she obliges by shaking a claw shape in front of her face and quickly switching to a wiggling five shape in front of her chest while nodding with a furrowed expression of deep approval.

RAINBOW THEATER BACKSTAGE circa 9:37pm—The Rainbow and its curtains cast a dark shadow in the bright stagelights, neatly delineating the boundary of invisibility for the waiting performers. On deck, a dozen odd unicyclists wait for the entrance. In the hole, aka in the woodchips of the Tipi Circle, our band of thespians wait in a large clump, all wearing the iconic Experimento red t-shirts emblazoned with the image of an eyeball with an earth for the iris. The excitement is palpable among the campers, who whisper amongst each other.

Soon the unicycles take the stage and we listen as the crowd cheers for their fancy wheelings. The act lasts for the duration of The Beach Boy’s “Surfin’ USA” and one-and-a-half times through of Chuck Berry’s “Rock and Roll Music”.

“Please make welcome Experimento, ASL and Longsword!” announces the emcee as our performers scurry into place. The stage lights come up to reveal a symmetrical arrangement of children in power stances. This act is the final act of the night, and the performers seem proud if not a tiny bit nervous. I sit with the band in the pit, aka the gravel in front of the stage, waiting for our cue. José counts us in.

“How can people be so heartless…”

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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A Living Disaster

Wednesday, July 8th, 2026

PUPPET GROVE circa 11:15pm—In the quiet of night, the vehicles on highway 101 hum like a pulsating white noise machine, or, if you squint your ears, it even almost sounds like the ocean. Counselors commiserate in the kitchen area, enjoying some time off while Nightwatch monitors the Tipi Circle. Administrative Manager Mayahuel Montoya pulls up in the camp golf cart stacked with boxes of junk food. We unload the bounty into my blog lair for safe keeping. As she pulls away, a young skunk skitters through the carpet of dry bay leaves that surround my desk. A quick hiss sends it skittering along into the night.

Tonight’s evening program was the infamous Adventure Night, where all of Camp is plunged into a competition of carnival games, every tipi for themselves. With such valuable prizes such as chips, soda and candy on the line, emotions were high, and the accusations of cheating began hours before the start of the game.

We started in the Tipi Circle, seated on the logs and benches that surround the central firepit. I gave an explanation of the rules and blew a conch to signal the beginning of the game. The next hour was an unrelenting torrent of youthful mayhem, children running in all directions, desperately trying to earn our custom-printed “Winnarain-Bucks” by participating in goofy carnival-style activities. Paper planes, roshambo, spider web, obstacle course, crate ball, rock stacking and limbo are just a few examples.

Camper Advocate Silver Morningstar was offering Winnarain-Bucks for finding lost water bottles, that is until he got carried away and just started throwing fistfuls of the little green bills into the air. It resembled something you might see on the news from Black Friday the way the campers clambered for the fluttering money.

As usual, we had a counselor dressed up as the Grim Reaper, slowly marauding through the crowd and tagging unexpecting campers, who were then compelled to lie down on the theater benches until rescued by a fellow camper.

I took a moment mid-game to gather reactions from the players themselves.

“There’s a lot of cheaters out there!” said Kip, 12. “Don’t be one of them!”

“It reminds me of a living disaster,” said Maple, 9.

“I think it’s pretty tough but pretty scary,” said Delphine. “If the Reaper comes, you gotta bark at it.”

“Adventure Night is really cool,” said Nick, 13. “You get to get money and gamble how many squares you can get.”

The money is used in the game to buy rolls of giant dice to move giant gamepieces on a flour-line track that wraps around the Tipi Circle.

“I like getting to run around and avoid the Grim Reaper,” said Tyson, 13. “My favorite site so far is limbo.”

“When money is tight, go win at rock-paper-scissors,” advised Micah, 12.

Once it became too dark to safely run, we blew the conch bringing everyone back to the Rainbow Theater for debrief. Site leaders gave reports on how the competitors performed and, most notably, the Real Estate Office site announced that one team had used all their winnings to rename every area of Camp after their favorite counselor, Bodhi. Even Camp Winnarainbow itself was renamed “Bodhi Town”. These revelations gave way to a raucous chant of “Bodhi, Bodhi, Bodhi…” that haunted us through the rest of the evening.

It was Mattias Rowenbale, the Chancellor of Counting, who announced the final scores: 3rd place Rainbow, 2nd place Ultraviolet, and 1st place with more points than the two runners up combined, Turquoise.

After the stage portion, we returned to the Fire Circle, where a group of fire jugglers dazzled the audience with their pyrotechnic antics. The final spectacle of the evening was a beautiful lullaby rendition of Fleet Foxes’ White Winter Hymnal, sung by camper Ophelia and friends [names to come]. As usual, I collected some more quotations in the toothbrush scene.

“I gambled a lot,” confided Anonymous, 14. “My favorite moment was Milla eating fire. Never seen anything like it.”

“I liked the spider web; it was easier than last year,” said Nora, 12. “Was it more fun? I don’t know, but I got more money!”

“It was amazing,” said Erwin, 11. “It was one of the top-ten best nights of the year so far, along with my birthday and the last day of school.”

“They gave less money this year,” observed Matthew, 11. “I got money just for bringing water bottles from the lost & found. I even threw in my own water bottle for a few extra bucks. This year I didn’t make the mistake of going to ring toss; it’s a time trap. The Grim Reaper was faster this year—way faster.”

“My tipi was very successful because we won by like 500 points,” said Mae, 13, Turquoise Tipi. “Everyone said we cheated, but we just had a meeting before the game of what each of our roles would be.”

“Adventure Night was super fun; everyone was just mad because they didn’t win,” said Frankie, 14, also from Turquoise.

“It’s all about strategy,” said Boon, 14, also from Turquoise. “What was our strategy? I can’t share that. My advice to others is just have fun.”

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Serious & Silly

Tuesday, July 7th, 2026

AERIALS SITE circa 9:24pm—The underlit truss looms 30 feet above the crowd, jutting into a cloud-like arch of leaves which glow soft pink. One figure suspends in mid air, brightly lit against the pitch black forest, slowly spinning in a large metal hoop, which I’m told is called a ‘lyra’. The crowd oohs and aahs as the aerialist gracefully contorts about the apparatus. The whole scene is surreal, giving the distinct appearance of a decorative aquarium with one very bright pink fish. This is the final spectacle for an evening performance we like to call Weirdo Talent Night.

Soon the show concludes and I scurry over to the toothbrush zone for some reviews.

“Weirdo Talent Night was extremely amazing,” says Fela, 12. “I thought it was unexpected, shocking, jaw-dropping, and very entertaining. The one where Shakon juggled light up things was my favorite.”

“Weirdo Talent Night was more unique than other nights,” says Liev, 14. “It was a good mix of serious and silly. I really liked when Beau was doing poi and I also liked the unicycle acrobats.”

“My favorite act was when the guy had marshmallows thrown into his mouth, and then he spit out a marshmallow mountain,” says Kayla, 11. “I counted 23 marshmallows, plus or minus 1.”

“This was a very fun event in Camp Winnarainbow,” observes Alex, 11. “I really appreciated the mime-aerials act for showing something that wasn’t actually there, and then using it. I had and overwhelming sense of coolness.”

“Honestly, nothing too aggressively remarkable,” says Ava, 12. “I give it seven out of ten. Might go again. The most interesting thing that happened during the show was I got my fan stuck in my cousin’s hair. Some Teen Staff came over and put conditioner in her hair and untangled it. I think that would be my act if I was in Weirdo Talent Night.”

“It was kind of chill, didn’t feel very long,” says Paloma, 9. “The best parts were unicycle standing up and the mime-aerials.”

“Weirdo Talent Night was very good and neat,” says Eliza, 9. “There was a really funny part with the marshmallows in the guy’s mouth. I thought he looked like a chipmunk. The synchronized swimming was funny too.”

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Lake’s a Beach

Monday, July 6th, 2026

LAKE VERONICA circa 2:35pm—The sun bears down from a high angle, popping Lake Veronica’s colors to a nearly neon degree: grass yellow, lilypad green, pennyroyal purple. The water itself absorbs all this optical phenomena into its glassy movement, creating a sort of amorphous stained glass painting.

Two lifeguards swim into position as I walk down the hill to the shoreline. The shade that usually consists of mismatched carports and EZ-Ups has been replaced by a tastefully uniform black fabric, stretched high and wide on an array of poles and guy wires.

I toss my effects in one of the cubbies and head straight for the shoreline.

As I approach, my heart sinks to see that there are no more stairs. My dismay doesn’t last long because, to my amazement, the old rocky drop-off shoreline has been transformed into a sandy beach that gradually glides below the water’s surface.

“Before it was like, ‘One small step for man; one giant leap for small children,’” jokes Lifeguard Shakon. “It’s a beach now, and everybody loves a beach. It’s dope. Lake’s a beach!”

I quickly dip in the water and emerge free from the clutches of the afternoon heat. A minivan arrives, releasing a group of campers who race down the hill to sign in with the Beach Mop. Nearby Waterfront Director Kitty Green and Camper Advocate Silver Morningstar argue whether Camp’s old waterslide was installed in 88 or 91.

“I’ll bet you a shrimp burrito that it was 91!” challenges Silver.

“That would kill me; I’m allergic,” retorts Kitty, completely deadpan.

“Okay, fine. Bean and cheese.”

“The lake is incredibly beautiful this year,” says Kitty. “I love the new shoreline; it’s much safer. And I’m proud of the recent addition of the Chill Pill. It’s a giant floaty just for adults, way over there where Nessied used to be.”

She points across the lake where a large puffy octagon can be seen bobbing in the distance. I turn my attention to the young swimmers who are rapidly beginning to fill the area.

“I came because of the heat,” says Ophelia, 14. “It’s a nice way to cool off. Me and my friends like to float and gossip. We have this game where we ask each other questions and if you get it wrong you have to dunk your head in the water. Frankie is the champion of the dunking game; she knows everyone’s birthdays.”

“My friends convinced me,” says Sasha, 14. “I’m not super glad to be at the Lake. Honestly I’m kind of scared.”

“I came because it’s really hot and I was bored,” says Jojo, 14. “You don’t have to swim the whole time; you can just sit on floaties and chat with your friends. That’s how I convinced Sasha to come.”

“I was feeling hot and my friends were going, so I was like, ‘Why not?’” says Albert, 14. “The water is nicer at the middle of the lake than at the shoreline. Everyone kicks up mud. I really like the lilypads. Sometimes you can see small frogs or dragonflies on them.”

“This is only my second time,” says Pola, 11. “I remember my first time it was slimy and gooey, but I’m ready to give it a second chance. Someone told me that it’s only gooey in shoreline so I’m gonna try to go out further, maybe out to the raft.”

Pola signs up for a Rafter swim test with Kitty, who assigns her to Lifeguard Audrey.

“It’s really funny seeing people try to get into the Chill Pill,” says Audrey. “The have to do this heel-to-ear maneuver, and then they flop over like a beached whale.”

As Audrey and Pola depart for the swim test, Sasha returns from a successful Lake Master challenge, which consists of one unassisted lap around the entire designated swimming area.

“I got Lake Master!” exclaims Sasha. “The water was so refreshing. I’m definitely going to come to the lake more often.”

“Last year I was a Rafter, so I knew I could do it,” says Aniko, fresh from a successful Rafter-level swim test. “It felt super exciting, but I was also out of breath of course. My advice for doing your swim test—or for anything, really—is to breathe deep, don’t give up, and you’ll succeed. You gotta try the Lake at least once.

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Quiet Places

Sunday, July 5th, 2026

CHESS GROVE circa 2:01pm—A spell of cloud cover combined with a warm breeze has created a drowsy afternoon atmosphere, especially here in the secluded chess grove. Most of the children are downtown waiting for candy and chips to be meted out from the Camp store, that is except for my opponent, Gabriel. We sit in silence, elbows perched, fingers laced, brows furrowed. The sound of Led Zeppelin-fueled kitchen cleaning in the medium distance provides a sort of white noise.

Across the road a small group of children materialize in the Puppet Grove, led by lead puppeteer Milla Blackwelder. They un-clothespin labelled plastic sandwich bags from a laundry line and carefully extract their in-progress creations. Hot glue guns and other materials circulate around two large crafting tables. Just behind the Puppet Grove in my blog lair, two Teen Staff unbox a newly donated junior drum kit, referring to the instructions as they assemble the miniature components.

Gabriel and I conclude our game with the usual handshake and he speeds off toward downtown. A pair of campers emerge from the kitchen with popsicles in hand, a sure sign that they have just completed a shift of dish duty.

“I like washing dishes,” says Hazel, 12. “We were listening to this playlist of old music like Chappel Roan. Some of it was even real oldies from the 2010s. It was so long ago, but the music was so good! Lana Del Rey was good from like 2011 until 2018. Her new single is really bad; she needs to retire.”

“I did dishes just for fun and to help out Lime Tipi,” says Star, 12. “It was peaceful and enjoyable. But, to be clear, in case my parents are reading this, I only like doing dishes at Camp.”

Just as the dishwashers depart, a camper carrying a book appears.

“So far today I’ve been hanging out with my counselor friends and had some tea,” says Sapphire, 10. “They told me about some quiet places I can go read if I get overstimulated. I get anxiety sometimes.” I agree that Camp can be very overstimulating, especially on Mid-Term Tipi Clean-Up Sunday.

“I’m reading Nevermore: The Trials of Morrigan Crow,” continues Sapphire. “It’s a story about this girl born on the unluckiest day, and she’s cursed to die on her eleventh birthday. I don’t think she’ll die though because there’s two more books in the series and that would be awkward.”

As the reader leaves, I head over to the puppet grove to see what’s puppin’.

“If you want to take off your puppet, do it like this,” demonstrates Milla to the half-dozen pupils. “Close the mouth, grab the lips, and pull.”

“I made this puppet but it doesn’t have a name yet,” says Pola, 11. “I didn’t get a chance to make a puppet last year so this time I prioritized it. When people think about Camp Winnarainbow but they haven’t been here, or they’ve just seen the website, they might think that it’s all classes. But there’s lots of random things to do like sitting in the creek, skipping rocks, or puppets. This camp has more choices than other camps.”

“I’m making a princess because I feel like it,” says Alexis, 11. “Her name is Princess Rose of the Rose Realm. She’s pink like a rose, and she also matches her dress which has pink roses on it. My puppet is going to be best friends with Phoebe’s puppet. The Puppet Grove is creative, it’s the art of making whatever. It’s impossible to be bored here.”

“I started making Velora two days ago,” says Tula, 11. “She’s sassy and loves to eat candy and junk food. She can give vicious side-eye and can win any staring contest. I’m gonna make a friend for Velora but with the opposite personality. They’re gonna be polite and nice and they’re not gonna eat just junk food, but also healthy food.”

“Do you want to continue our adjourned game?” asks longtime Camp Chess Purveyor Memo Gosnell. I agree and return to the solace of competitive contemplation. These quiet moments are really crucial to the ebb and flow of Camp’s joyful mayhem. As I play I can hear the kitchen fans humming.

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Time Cypher

Saturday, July 4th, 2026

RAINBOW THEATER circa 9:56am—A boisterous crowd of campers fill the theater, chatting amongst each other and heckling the adults attempting to control them. “Jingle for President!” chants an especially rowdy corner of the audience, referring to Camp’s latest visitor, a mad scientist by the name of Ckary Jingle. He stands on the side of the stage, appearing to be quite pleased with the burgeoning chaos.

“My plan worked perfectly and now the time machine is up and running!” exclaims Jingle, taking center stage. The campers continue to cheer and jeer. Several dinosaurs mill about the stage area, making unpleasant dinosaur noises, a testament to Jingle’s creation. “I believe one of my colleagues warned me about branching timelines… something about wormholes, something about time rifts—yes, that’s what it was: ‘time rifts’.”

As he speaks, a pair of tank-topped counselors come running from opposite sides of the stage, meeting in the middle with an energetic high-five. “Epic!” they exclaim together.

“We’re from the epic high-five timeline,” one of the tank-tops explains. Before they can elaborate, more characters have emerged on stage and begin introducing themselves: aliens, medieval knights, 80’s jazzercisers, sorcerers from the Six Seven Swamp, counselors from an equestrian summer camp, 2000’s era Bay Area culture enthusiasts, and many more. The scene is one of costumed confusion. Soon the chaos reaches critical chaosity and the crowd is ordered to disperse.

ART GROVE circa 10:45am—All around downtown Camp campers seem to be engaged in zany activities with our interdimensional visitors. Here in the Art Grove I have come to report on one such activity, working with aliens from outer space to repair the faulty time machine.

“Were making a time machine so that we can… I don’t know,” says Bleep Bloop from planet Blorp, holding a pentagonal wad of foil filled in the center with a puddle of glue and googly eyes.

“We’re fixing the time machine to put everyone back into their own realities,” explains Willow, 9, clearly more cognizant of the task at hand than Bleep Bloop. “We’re using tin foil for wires and stuff. It’s going to run on coal and melted metal. It can also make garbage disappear!”

“This is where all the power comes through,” adds Star, 12, pointing to a molded foil nodule inside the outer casing. I ask if they are worried about breaking the 2nd law of thermodynamics, to which Star responds, “We’re a little worried, but if we work hard it’ll work out.”

STREETER CREEK circa 11:15am—A dozen-odd campers calmly busy themselves in the cool running water of Streeter Creek, carefully overseen by the sorcerers from the Six Seven Swamp who have insisted that all rock stacks must be of either 6 or 7 rocks—no more, no less. I cross the small footbridge where two pupils have created a small circle of stones.

“We’re trying to feed this water skeeter to this spider,” says Fox, 13, gently displaying a spindly spider which crawls in figure-eights on the back of her hand. “We found him in the Big Top and we think it’s a dinosaur spider.”

“I’m trying to make a pond to keep water on the bridge for the water skeeters, but it might be physically impossible,” says Maya, 12. “Also the skeeter might be dead already.”

“If they fix the time machine we’ll use it to bring the water skeeter back to life so we can feed it to the dino-spider again,” adds Fox.

CROSSROADS circa 11:42am—A sudden and unexpected rap battle has erupted at the crossroads in downtown Camp. A growing throng of campers, counselors and characters have gathered in a large ring, each faction cheering for their own contenders. Perfco José Garcia holds down a beat on a cajon. The crowd quiets as Ckary Jingle confidently enters.

“I dedicate this rep to my opps; RIP!” taunts Ckary Jingle before launching into his lyrical assault. The crowd oohs at the poignant witticisms. He levels many insults at other characters and Camp in general before dropping the imaginary mic. The other characters take turns in the cypher, many supported by campers who wrote their own tactical verses. Even the characters from the Mime Dimension deliver a captivating performance, devastating the antagonist with a silent display of lyrical talent.

Soon the crowd is called to the theater for a grand finale, after which I find two campers to give their best summary of the morning’s events.

“So Ckary Jingle had tooken the dinosaurs,” recounts Caelen, 10½. “There was a bunch of posters saying, ‘Is this man trusted to our society?’ Then his time machine broke and all these other timelines came to Camp. Everyone wanted to go home to their own timeline, so all the timelines had a big rap battle against Ckary Jingle.”

“One could say it was crazy,” says Phoebe, 11. “There was a Phaedra-saurus, and Sierra-saurus, and there was even a pterodactyl serving cocoa! I was confused, but it was super fun. I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere else—not even close!”

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Huzzah!

Friday, July 3rd, 2026

TIPI CIRCLE circa 7:46pm—The setting sun casts long shadows on a festive post-dinner scene. A group of diabloists spin their bobbles near Maroon Tipi, while a group of Teen Staff stilters stride between Turquoise and Green, guided by two spotters. In front of Orange Tipi, ASL Instructor Phaedra Kossow-Quinn holds court with a circle of campers. Closer to the benches that surround the firepit, Perfco José Garcia sits in the sun in a low lawn chair, surveying the scene and playing mellow soul music on a large portable speaker. Within the circle of benches, Clowning Instructor Riley Soloner carefully rakes his daily Zen garden pattern, slowly so as to not kick up too much dust.

I sit on one of the benches alongside a pair of chatting campers.

“Today in stilts class I went from a Floater to a Quantum Leaper,” says Tilly, 9, using stilts lingo. “That means I can walk without holding someone’s hands. Maybe in like three days I’ll be Electrified, which means I can walk without a spotter. My favorite things about camp are aerials, friends, and the fire circle. It just kinda makes me feel cozy, safe, loved.”

“I did stilts today too,” says Paloma, 9. “I want to be in the parade during the Big Show. In order to do that you gotta be Electrified and do two kitchen walks. I also did tight rope so I can get Rope-ified. I have more goals this year now that I’m older and I’ve seen more people do more performances.”

The conch blows and campers begin streaming into the theater. As if on cue, the mosquitos begin to appear as the sun dips behind the western ridge. I leave to retrieve my bugspray from the Puppet Grove where I can hear the kitchen staff cleaning up to a bluegrass rendition of “Where Is My Mind?” As I return downtown, the same group of Teen Staff stilters have taken the stage to dance to Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk”. I cut behind Gold Tipi to post near the bathroom handwashing area.

“This morning I went to clowning because I want to be a clown,” says Santi, 15. “I’ve been going on a lot of rants today: dogs and politics, politics and dogs! I interview people and then use this book to tell them what type of dog they are. It only makes sense at Camp Winnarainbow. Also, can you add this in? ‘Eat the rich! No ethical billionaires! Boooo!’ And make sure to add the ‘Booo’.”

“What did I do today? I don’t remember most of it,” admits Lucy 13. “I have a vague memory of unicycling. Here days feel like weeks and weeks feel like days. Camp switches time around and makes you not remember breakfast, but you can remember last week.”

“Today I got up at the time I usually do,” reflects Bryn, 11. “Our tipi had dishes today. Breakfast was tough because we had oatmeal. All that oatmeal sticking to the bowls, plus the syrup and butter; it took us a long time. During classes I learned some mimery with a balloon. Lunch dishes were easier; the hardest part was the ketchup. In the afternoon I made this puppet, Ryn. It’s like ‘Bryn’ but without the ‘B’. Ryn says, ‘Meow!’”

As the air cools and dims, the stage lights become more noticeable.

“We did still life watercolors in class today,” reports Ace, 11. “I painted a viking hat, a spool of ribbon with a branch with leaves coming out of it, and a juggling pin. So far a ten-out-of-ten session!”

“Yesterday I sang ‘Landslide’ for the Tornado of Talent,” says Mathias, 14. “I love the way Stevie Nicks does it and I wanted to do it justice. I think it went really well. This session has been flying by; it feels like only 2 days have passed.”

“In trapeze today I learned a new trick called ‘Ships Figurehead’,” says Delphine, 12, demonstrating the move in real-time. “This session has been going good. There was a little bit of drama at first, but it seems to be getting better. We’ve all been getting to know each other better and how to get along.”

There seems to be a slower turnout at the bathrooms than I expected, perhaps an omen of dehydration, or perhaps because Teen Staff Talent Night is so captivating. Just in case it is the latter, I slip into the back row just as Teen Staff Oliver begins a drum solo with a very funky and bombastic ride-bell-heavy groove.

“Can we get a ‘Huzzah!’ if this show is feeling swaggy?” say the Teen emcees Sticks and Lane, to which the crowd responds with a mighty “Huzzah!”

Next up, Teen Staff Sol delivers us visions of his own destiny via an earnest poem. Suddenly, Teen Staff Ollie has appeared dangling from a trapeze in the middle of the theater’s seating area. More and more huzzahs are called for as each act passes. Soon the final act arrives and the teens quietly amass on stage, over thirty of them, while the campers cheer and shout out individuals’ names.

The familiar opening chords of Wheetus’s “Teenage Dirtbag” ring out on the PA. It seems the Teen Staff have written some sort of Camp parody to sing over the karaoke track. I can’t help but think that this song is as old for these teens as Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” is for me.

“Cuz I’m just a Teen Staff dirtbag, baby!” they sing for the chorus, jumping with arms raised. The crowd joins in. In the back row, an entire bench of long-haired campers have begun whipping their hair like metalheads.

The song concludes to much applause and a few more huzzahs for good measure. Finally, the emcee duo invokes our founder, Wavy Gravy, and bids the campers to “Brush ‘em if you got ‘em!” The campers disperse to the Tipi Circle, many still singing the new Teen Staff anthem as they walk into the cool evening.

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Heck Yeah!

Thursday, July 2nd, 2026

RAINBOW THEATER circa 4:32pm—A trio of rockers have taken the stage to practice a rendition of the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army”. A camper heads the group with guitar and lead vocals while two Teen Staff hold down the drums and bass guitar. The stage is dappled with oak leaf shade. Over the theater looms an enormous metallic lighting rig which also suspends a large shade, keeping the seating area relatively cool during the several-hour screening process for tonight’s program, The Tornado of Talent.

“Find a big ending,” coaches Performance Coordinator (Perfco, for short) José Garcia from his seat in the fourth row, causing the trio to come to an emphatic low note. The other campers waiting to screen their acts give a heat-tempered smattering of applause. A rowdy quartet of tween boys take the stage and begin shyly singing an acapella version of Carly Rae Jepson’s “Call Me Maybe”, which quickly dissolves into giggles and arguing.

“Okay, I’m gonna give you some notes and then we’ll go again from the top,” instructs Perfco Bayla Jaffe, marshalling the budding boy band into formation. Nearby a cluster of stilters make laps around the stilt field, turning corners at the large metal poles topped with colorful umbrellas. Directly below the back row of the theater, a group of unicyclers carefully circumnavigate the triangular Uni-Track, each rider holding the guide rail for balance.

“That’s the only White Stripes song I know,” admits rock trio frontman Rider, 9. “I learned it at School of Rock in Brooklyn. I’ve never seen the movie, but I’ve lived it! I’m feeling ready but maybe the distortion could go up a little.

“Surfin U.S.A.” blares on the PA as two young diabloists take the stage, flailing back and forth their plastic hourglass-shaped devices which occasionally escape control and chaotically roll around the stage or into the gravel. Soon the stage is handed over to two young clowns with an original skit.

“We have a very talented group of Session B-ers,” says Bayla, reviewing a clipboard with act names. “Let’s see the group dance,” she announces. A trio of girls approach.

“Can we get ‘What It Is’ by Doechii, CLEAN VERSION!” they chime in unison. Lead Techie Momo Calfe-Smith begins scrolling through her laptop’s downloaded song library.

“The screening is very intense,” observes Dance Instructor Karma Engel. “These three asked for my help on this dance number. It’s fun, it’s upbeat, it’s hip-hop, and mostly choreographed by camper Chase. She really has a future in dance; she’s my prodigy.”

The techies can’t find the requested song, but the trio agree to practice the act to a similar track.

“Our act is about two people who are good friends and they keep tripping and get into a fight,” explains River, 9.

“So then Forest comes in,” continues Tula, 11. “And they tell us to save our anger for the Heart Rock Spiral.”

“Wait for him to finish writing!” interjects River.

They resume explaining the act simultaneously, interrupting each other at every hint of a pause.

“And then we separate—And then we go to either side of the Rainbow—And then we hug—And then we realize the true love of friendship.”

River wins the verbal wrestling match and concludes, “People at first will laugh and giggle, and then they’ll get sad and then they’ll say, ‘Aww!’ when they see how two friends can come together in such peace.”

The dancers have relinquished the stage to another skit, this one a solo act.

“I thought of the dance while scrolling through Capcut and seeing someone else do a dance to the same song,” says choreographer Chase, 11. “I thought to myself, ‘I should add on to that’. I feel proud of my dancers; they were really giving it their all.”

“I’m excited to perform and to see all the acts,” says supporting dancer Delia, 10. “The comedy, the acting, and of course the dancing… The people here are supportive, the vibes are super chill, and the Rainbow is very unique,” she says, referencing the stage’s towering metal rainbow structure.

“I want to perform at every opportunity I can get,” says the solo clown artist Yoshiko, 11. “I like showing off. Camp is a really good place to perform because the audience is supportive even if you mess up. At my school, I might get teased for doing a clown act, but here people are like, ‘Heck yeah, a clown act!’”

“Do you know ‘Landslide’ by Fleetwood Mac?” José asks me, calling me away from blog land into the realm of accompaniment.

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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I Walk Through The World of Blue

Wednesday, July 1st, 2026

LOWER RING circa 6:53pm—Children drift down from dinner into downtown Camp, casually strolling through patches of tree shadow and golden sunset. One group accrues in the Big Top to lounge on crash mats while another circles up in the stilt field to discuss the terms of an imminent game of kickball. A contingent of jugglers has appeared near the Juggling Cart for some post-dinner practice. Adjacent to my station at the Lower Ring, a group of leotarded adults have assembled at the Aerials Site for some sort of clinic. I snag some passing campers.

“I did stilts today,” says Kip, 12. “I like being taller. It’s not really adrenaline, but it’s some sort of deep-down excitement. You never know what’s gonna happen, but if you fall, you can always get back up again. You don’t know what you can learn until you actually try.”

“I went to the lake and did Lake Master and Star Lake Master,” says Liam, 12. “You have to swim 6 times around the lake, 1 for Lake Master, and 5 for Star Lake Master. I got a cramp in my leg on lap 5, but it went away after a few seconds. We’re finna get some bracelets as a prize.”

The aerialists begin a synchronized jumping jacks warm-up. I breeze across the road to interview some jugglers.

“Today I did diabolo and improv because I like being funny,” says Westley, 10. “In the afternoon I went to the creek and skipped rocks and caught tadpoles and water skeeters. We saved some frogs because they were near the water spigot and people were going to step on them. We took them to the creek.”

“I first tried flowersticks two years ago and failed terribly,” admits Gage, 13. “This year I learned from the counselor Sage how to do basic, reverse basic, 2-stick, helicopter, and helicopter spin, so now I’m intermediate. Hopefully next year I can become an expert.”

I move to the Stilt Field to assess the kickball game. A close call is argued, the runner and fielder shouting “Safe!” and “Out!” back and forth. “Roshambo for it,” command the pair of staff facilitators who have demarcated themselves with matching straw boater hats. “Ro, sham, bo…. Safe!”.

The pitcher winds up at the mound, aka a pink hula-hoop, and rolls the ball toward home plate, aka an orange traffic cone. The line of batters squint into the setting sun, trying to follow the trajectory of the hit.

“Third base is not very exciting,” says fielder Goldie, 11. “We don’t have a team name, but if we did it would be ‘The Mediocre Team But We Try’.”

“Three outs! Switch!” announces one of the facilitators. I follow Goldie to the batting line.

“It’s like a soccer rip-off of baseball,” she observes while waiting to be up. “I like it because my foot-eye coordination is better than my hand-eye.”

She kicks a single and takes her base. The next kicker sends up an easy fly and the teams rotate once more.

“The time is 7:32,” announces Performance José Garcia on the PA. “We will blow the conch at 7:45. Last call to sign up for tonight’s Fire Circle!”

“Game over!” chime the boater hat counselor pair after a few more minutes in gameplay. “The final score is infinity to infinity.”

The children disperse back into the Tipi Circle. Back in Lower Ring, I spy a fellow open-notebook-and-pen holder striding about.

“I’m working on a poem for the fire thing tonight,” says Viva, 11. Graciously they agree to share their creation to close out Wednesday’s blog:

“
The leaves are quiet with golden mist
I look up only for a glimpse
I walk through the world of blue
Swirls and spirals and shapes of two
“

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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Send In The Clowns

Tuesday, June 30th, 2026

EASEMENT circa 6:42pm—A large metal fork has been positioned in the small triangle of grass between two forking sections of the main dirt road. Today, Camper Advocate Silver Morningstar and I are taking the forbidden left fork, into the collection of private dwellings known to some as Downtown Hogsville. My charmingly dilapidated 2003 Ford Explorer looks brand-new compared to the rustic relics that decorate the area, most notably a metallic tour bus emblazoned with painted letters that read, “NOBODY FOR PRESIDENT ‘88.” We lumber up the small hill that overlooks the Black Oak Ranch’s pastures. Soon we have arrived at the correct dwelling. Our mission: Send in the clowns.

Camp Winnarainbow was originally started by Wavy Gravy in 1975 as somewhat of a glorified babysitting collective. By 1983, Wavy’s wife Jahanara Romney had joined the outfit and turned it into a fully accredited summer camp with the American Camp Association. Now both retired from official leadership functions, the Gravies, as they are known, still love to attend Camp performances, especially tonight’s program, Teacher Talent Night.

“I’m pretty spry for 90!” boasts Wavy, carefully maneuvering downstairs. “Don’t try to catch me; you might be crushed to death!” he warns Silver who had approached to spot him.

“I still love a good show as much as I did when I was young,” reminisces Jahanara, following Wavy down.

Our progress toward the front door is slow and purposeful. Jahanara wears a black hoodie while Wavy sports a black crew neck and a large felted rainbow hat shaped like a bell.

“Shotgun!” exclaims Wavy, securing his preferred car seat. Jah chuckles and rolls her eyes.

LOO-LOO circa 9:26pm—The evening sky glows a soft blue against the black silhouettes of trees and tipis. Nestled behind the showerhouse, two laundry machines spin, clattering fasteners in their drums. On the opposite side of the Tipi Circle, the back stage of the Rainbow Theater can be seen, intensely backlit by the array of professional stage lights. With the gravies safely situated in their front row seats, I’ve situated myself near the facilities in order to gather a few quotations. Nearby three counselors stationed to monitor the area discuss the acceptability of pineapple as a pizza topping. Inevitably a few campers appear.

“I like how active Teacher Talent Night is, and the bright lights,” says Lorraine, 9. “I really liked puppets, or at least the music in the puppets act.”

“Teacher Talent stirs excitement, silliness and joy,” says Ada, 10. “So far tonight my favorite act is improv, though usually my favorite is aerials, so we’ll see. How they think on their feet so quickly and make it funny, it’s impressive.”

“The teachers show the kids what they teach, but also just how awesome they are; and they’re super awesome,” says Jojo, 10. “Like I wouldn’t even know how awesome improv could be if it weren’t for Teacher Talent Night.”

“It’s a fun way for teachers to express all their classes and stuff,” says Maxine, 10. “I didn’t know about sword fighting class or ASL before. This is my first sleep-away camp and so far it’s an awesome experience.”

An emphatic bout of cheers alerts me to the conclusion of the show, and I head back to transport my charges. On the way I encounter Performance Coordinator José Garcia, who organized and ran tonight’s show. Says José, “Just another night in paradise.”

Stay hydrated,

—J. Payseno, Editor

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