Colin leaves tomorrow morning. Back to the noise, florescence, and metropolis skylines; the 'real world' awaits. It's our last night as a full team, the entire Harlan staff. Up until now, I'm willing to bet some of my staff took all those other nights for granted. Nights where we played cards and recounted memories from our lives back home. Nights spent struggling to balance our gun logs. Nights with a full moon and nights with clear skies. I'm sure they'll miss the days too. Days where thundershowers and heavy clouds cooled the dusty, hot earth. Days where lightening struck and exploded a nearby ponderosa. Days spent on the porch swing, laughing with participants. My staff, along with the thousands of staff which have come before us and after us, they will feel it too—deeply. Permanently effected by the people and the land. Philmont has a powerful hold on everyone's soul who walks her trails. Some spend one summer, their lessons learned are satisfactory. Some spend many summers never tiring of the enchanted landscape. Perhaps I'll return for one more year...or maybe two.
