Magical Capacity
Welcome to the Camp Winnarainbow Blog! This feed is dedicated to providing daily updates on various Camp happenings with a special focus on camper quotations. DISCLAIMER: For matters of an urgent or serious nature, please contact the Camp office directly. This blog desk is not equipped to handle official business. Besides that, feel free to request article topics or special reports. Happy reading! —J. Payseno, Editor
Monday, July 27th, 2026
JUGGLING CART circa 7:13pm—The first after-dinner free-time has unfurled into the evening, children flitting around campus, exploring the environment. A cluster of campers have congealed around the beloved Juggling Cart, a sort of wheeled dog house full of juggling pins and rings. On the ground beside it lie several 13-gallon Costco bins, topless, also full of juggling equipment—balls, poi, flowersticks, et cetera. The aspiring jugglers toss the implements up in irregular spurts, bending down to recover fallen items every few seconds. The sinking sun shoots rays through the western treetops and onto the jugglers’ knoll in bright splotches.
“It’s the way the balls move; you gotta be mentally tough to figure it out,” says Quincy about the art of juggling. “I have this poster in my room that says, ‘The most powerful opponent is the eye of the opponent in the opponent’s eye.’”
“First you throw the first ball, and then the second ball goes up and then the third,” says Omar, 10. “No matter how hard it is, you gotta keep trying and eventually you’ll be successful. It’s about learning about it.”
“How do you do those?” asks Tavi, 12, gesturing at the bin of flowersticks.
“Here, I’ll show you,” says Emmett, 12, holding a set of his own. “You just start like this with one on the top and one on the bottom, and you go back and forth until you get the hang of it.”
“How do you do that!” marvels Tavi.
“Four years of practice,” says Emmett with an air of weariness. “I learned by starting with one end on the ground.”
“I’m gonna try that,” says Tavi, sitting criss-cross in the wood chips to finesse the flowerstick like a snake charmer.
“It’s a little bit challenging but not super challenging,” says Leo, 10. “I just like it, the way it all moves and feels. I can’t explain it, but it does improve eye-hand coordination.”
The conch blows, calling away the jugglers to the Rainbow Theater along with the rest of Camp. Before I can follow along, Clowning Instructor and Camp Magician Riley Soloner appears, brandishing a handwritten list of counselor names in a tiny notebook, dots of colorful marker accenting the black ballpoint print. I know exactly what he’s here for because he explained it to me six hours ago. It’s a project to collect one-word definitions of the notoriously indescribable magic of Camp.
The magic of Camp.
You see, ‘Camp Magician’ is a confusing title (not entirely by accident) because it doesn’t refer to stage magic—rings, cards, rabbits, sawn ladies, that sort of magic. It refers to the elusive quality that brings people back year after year, decade after decade. It refers to the reason that 90% of our staff are former Campers, and the reason that anywhere you travel in the world, you can meet people who have been to Winnarainbow and have instant, meaningful camaraderie. Camp Magician is a new experimental role meant to foster that sense of magic and help it flourish.
In lieu of pinning down a precise definition of this nebulous phenomenon, Riley has reportedly chosen this session to ask every counselor two questions: 1) “Have you ever experienced the magic of Camp?” and 2) “How would you sum it up in one word?” He plans to use the list of magic words to compose a poem later this week.
“Yes, and… ‘Adventure’,” I answer.
…
LOO-LOO circa 8:06pm—The downtown bathroom-shower-laundry area always has a steady stream of foot traffic, even during shows such as tonight’s Tipi Skit Night. The facilities sit at the base of the plateau hillside which is nicely lit at this time of day. Earlier I saw a fox on the kitchen side, ambling down the road before cutting up into the brush. I look for it now, scanning between the trunks of pine trees. Eventually I spy, not a fox, but a large raven. It slowly glides in a long arc to a bough where it perches.
Maintenance Man Marcos strolls up with a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Eight o-six—the best time to shower,” he says. “Put that in your blog!”
He slips into one of the open showers, closing the green door behind him. I oblige his snarky request while waiting for a more sincere interview subject. Soon they begin arriving.
“My friend recommended Camp to me, so I came here,” says Vivi, 11. “She said it was fun and that there’s a lot of fun activities. I’m excited to try stilts, silks, and maybe unicycling. So far so fun!”
“I’m looking forward to songwriting,” says Teen Staff Bean. “Last year I was inspired to learn banjo. I got my own banjo and have been practicing all year. I’ve basically been preparing for this session ever since last August. I wanna write something folky and fingerpick-y. I’ll probably write lyrics that are a metaphorical train of thought, and a little non-sensicle.”
“This session I’m going to be maximizing my magical capacity,” says Camp Auntie Moment Parker. “I’m going to drink as much water as I possibly can, and I’m going to be as kind as possible to myself and others. This session seems super chill, but you never know. It could be Esperanza Spalding or it could be Led Zeppelin. I wouldn’t mind a little Fleetwood Macabooyah.”
Stay hydrated,
—J. Payseno, Editor