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This is Celeste being bathed in a wash bucket at my In-Law's Summer Camp in Northern Ontario. I love this photograph for more reasons than I can possibly list.

The concept of a "Summer Camp" to those that don't live in the North is probably quite foreign. In fact, if it conjures any image at all, it's more than likely of a group camp affiliated with a church or scouting organization that younger children attend for a few weeks each summer. In a way, it is kind of like that, only, usually on a smaller scale and much more close knit.

When I grew up, my Grandmother had (and still has) a Summer Camp in Vermont. Even after staying with her at Camp for entire summers, I still didn't really understand what it meant or why anyone would put forth the money and trouble. This year it's starting to make more sense. It's not a place, or a season, or certain people. Sure, these things all get included in the end. But, above all that, it's a way of life, a set of values, and a shared bond between family and friends. And that's where I've spent my past two weeks.

Of course every Camp is different. My In-Laws Camp tends to be quiet, laid back, and relaxed and happens to be equipped with most of the luxuries of home. Other Camps are really just houses on the lake and set in the woods. Others have no running water, save for the complicated array of tubes and water barrels you've designed, a kitchen that's just a basin and a stove under an awning, and more out houses than bedrooms.

Regardless of what a camp is like, if it's something that is loved and cherished, then being there will be an experience all of it's own. Maybe a Summer Camp we'll have one day. Either, one of our own, or one to share part in with others. Some place to bring my own children up with those same values and shared bonds.