Such a Perfect Day

We went to Mesaba Park's 80th reunion & Juhannus (midsummer) celebration in northern Minnesota. Founded by Finnish progressive socialists in 1929, my mom used to go to summer camp here. She brought us out to Mesaba Park when we were kids, too. I remember swimming in our underpants in this lake, when we forgot our swimming suits. The buildings are mostly gone, or very dilapidated now. We rowed across to the place where the summer camp bunk house used to be, and where she remembered the best swimming beach. The swimming place was all reeds and water lilies, now, and the bunkhouse was torn down in the woods. I remember looking in the windows of it once, before they tore it down. My mother showed us her bunk, where she had drawn a perfect Mickey Mouse in pencil on the bed post. We found what used to be the cook shack, where her Aunt Lempi had stayed and cooked for the campers. We watched a swimming raft with four little kids diving and jumping off, as the sun was setting, while the anchored raft spun slowly in concentric rippling rings in the perfect little lake. I fell for a black and white dog with a crooked ear. Her name was Beatrice. We listened to talks about the political history of the park, and discovered why we are dyed in the wool progressive socialists. Communists? Probably. Oh, such a perfect day, and I'm glad I spent it with you. (Lou Reed)