I’ve always had slightly mixed feelings about the fall. Part of me likes the romance of it all; the spectacular displays of color, the way that the mist rises and swirls so mysteriously. But the fall also means that summer is over. Those crazy, fun-filled expeditions into the wilderness are done and dusted for another six months. I guess there are very few scoutmasters who live for the organization the way that I do. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not some sad old dude who doesn’t have a social life and gets vicarious kicks from hanging out with youngsters whose horizons are opening up like the petals of a flower at dawn. But I love everything about the scouts. I love the chats I have with the other scoutmasters when we’re waiting for the fire to burn itself out while putting the world to rights and the day to bed. I love being responsible for broadening the minds of younger people. I love teaching them life skills. I love leading them into adventures they’ll never forget.So when the fall comes, I often feel a little wistful and listless. The last camping expedition of the year is often quite a riotous occasion. The boys get over-excited, telling ghost stories and trying to freak the crap out of each other. Sometimes I steel myself away from the madness back at camp in order to take a walk in the woods. It gives me a bit of alone time; a few precious moments to think about where I want to be in life when we return to the great outdoors in April.I was …More
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Date: August 14, 2025