Ramblewood Empty
The birds are chirping, heat of the sun ducked down behind clouds, the heat midday faded to a comfortable afternoon. Green trees, green grass, greenery of all sorts. Empty.
On-site at Ramblewood you currently have Danny (the cook), James (Cal's assistant), the assistant chef, and 4 general helpers from overseas. Even Cal (the property manager) and Harry (the owner) are offsite. Oh, and me. I'm here.I've been coming to Ramblewood since 2003, when Boymeat and others lovingly coerced convinced me to come out for an event called Leather Retreat, the last year Frasier and Greg ran it together. Before Camp Crucible became a thing, a response, a way to fill the needs of those who had gone the other direction.
Since then, I have come to this ground every summer for 1-5 events a year. My life has been spotted with Leather Retreat, Dark Odyssey Summer Camp, Beltane, Free Spirit Gathering, Rope Camp, Dark Odyssey Fusion, FetFest, Primal Arts Festival. My commitment ceremony to Aiden was here, at the Labyrinth. I paddled Ming down by the lake. I did main ritual with Adam once in the dining hall classroom. That same room hosted the fuck-uped-ness that was the Dragon-dude v. Femcar the priestess. The barn held the Descent of Innana, which changed so many lives and paths. The U-shaped cabins hold memories of being a porch-walker (we didn't have a street to walk). The sweat lodges blew my mind open. Streets hold memories of wild horses (no, really) and human ponies alike.I close my eyes and open them, and I travel through time. The same swingset has naked children in pointed hats casting spells as they swing, and with the next blink has naked age-players and swingers being caned, weaving their own magic. I close my eyes and open them, fire spinners, close and open, a caress on the cheek, close and open, a gun in my mouth. Here it is a dance hall, here it is rave space, here it is a hook pull, here it is my firebird, flying.But, today, it is empty.
The cabins have been cleaned. The lawn has been mowed. The may pole stands majestic in the center of the field. No mud. No hurricane swells. No one hanging from trees. No one screaming Rumspringa! from the front of their cabin.Having been here for ten years, I have formed friendships with the land and the owner alike. The owner and I talk. I shared a school with his daughter. We laugh about points, bitch about points, give advice and ideas in both directions about points. The land and I have walked each other. She knows my ley lines and I know hers. We kiss each others pulse points, dance in each others tears, know each others secrets... at least some of them.
I want people to fall in love with her. The landvættir and I know what it's like to need love. She held a lot of pain in her past, and still does. She drinks those pains down for you, if you ask. All she asks for is love in return. What more do many of us want. She doesn't need you to come back year after year, though you may want to after you get to know her. She just wants you to love her, even for just one day, for one hour, for one breath.
In the next month or so I'm getting a tattoo that means so many things to me. It means Dark Odyssey and Palimpsest. It is a compass and a sun alike. It is royalty and humility. It is pointing the way forward. It is seeing the map. It is the Trains of Heaven. It is Ramblewood. Because she will ever be a part of me, even if I never see her again.And right now, she is empty, save a few. The next group does not load in for 4 days. I am here to write. I am here to sit, and be, and put my head together. I am here to birth a book, or maybe two, but one is the priority because it has turned into a formal timeline and I need to re-shoot images in late July... so I had better know which images need re-shot, you know?
So I am in the quad that Dark Odyssey folks would know as "cool kids" or the "home of the kraken" or "the drinking circle." I am sleeping in the same room that I have memories of curling up in the day after load-out, talking with a few friends until late after we had sat with our feet in the pool, processing. The space was empty then too. We were the few left.As part of staff for Dark Odyssey, I know this sensation. It is not so strange. I have been here when Alan and I are the first ones to arrive. I have been dropped off with a frame pack while Sister Spirit was still loading out. I have seen the tents hauled in for PEX. I know this place as it moves and flows.An
d she knows me. Tears from such painful news that it rocked me to the core. Moans that came after, that made it not good, but not as bad as it could have been. Laughter as I climbed a jungle gym to get away, silence as I held space for a ritual that cut away the past... ribbons of words still hanging from walls in Chicago. She has known me as people moved in and out of my life, as I have moved in and out of my life. She has sat with me, walked side by side.I silence, we sit..........Ramblewood, sitting with me.