enough of that, the real reason i came here was because of the transparent filmy sheaths roaming around between scrub pines at camp howes. built by the harbor community in 1944, it once spread along the inner shoreline over the rolling hills beyond the creek. the camphouse is still there, and has never changed, although now there is a hot dog popsicle concession in the basement during the summer but it is a traditional seacamp structure, with a peaked roof and dormers made of brick and worn wooden shingles and a sprawling open porch faces the bay. some finches are nesting in the corner. it is empty i didn't know it was haunted.
then just yesterday, before all this rain started a brilliant golden mid afternoon, around 2 oclock we were wandering among the picnic tables, softly, not to wake them from their offseason slumber low chatting about the upcoming festival he had his head down, looking at a pinecone or something, and i glanced over his bent neck and saw them. geez they were thinly sliced with celophane ripples around the edges, it was the reflection, as if on curved glass, that defined them. and they were moving together like a herd of goats or coyotes in small clusters. i heard some kind of benny goodman music they were gravitating toward the old bandstand now a cement tiled circle with a fountain in the middle and a wall made of stones with a bas relief crest inlaid, a brass portrait of JFK. Kennedy Memorial Park, they were all heading over there.
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