By Louie Ferrera

The narrow two-lane road that leads us in is a snake; a slithering S  winding its way over the Santa Cruz Mountains. Civilization slowly melts away as we make our way through a tunnel of redwood, bay laurel and madrone trees, over dry creek beds, a cascade of small boulders and cobblestones, the last memory of  water. A familiar sign materializes out of the green: Camp Loma… we’ve arrived. Soquel Creek, bisects the land and is still flowing, its waters  clean, peaceful and clear to the bottom. The buildings, green and weathered blend into the forest. The grounds where we gather were once perhaps the home of an indigenous tribe who in ancient times worshiped the forest spirits. I imagine them dancing around a roaring bonfire, sparks flying up through the towering redwoods to become one with the infinite and unknowable stars.

The comfort and familiarity of this unique and magical place is welcoming and warm, it glows with all of the love and music that has happened here, that still swirls through the meadow and paths and hillsides, up the creek bed and into the treetops where owls call, bidding the night goodbye, where the chirps, twits and peeps of mysterious songbirds make a joyful sound as they welcome the dawn of a new day, where the slanting shafts of the rising sun paint the understory in brilliant brush strokes of pure light. 

I love our little corner of heaven. When only a handful of our merry band of fellow travelers are here it’s as quiet as a dream. With each new arrival the camp slowly fills, not just with people and tents and instruments but with love. Simply stated it is enchanted out here and fairly pulsates with the echos of  countless blissful moments that we’ve shared over the past two decades. Each song, all of the smiles, every savory aroma, every child’s playful squeal, every ringing guitar note adds itself to the collective beauty. It all still resonates here and I gratefully breathe everything in. Camp Loma is a refuge from the madness that is life in America in 2022.

Night falls without a sound at the end of our first day here, dawn arrives with a whisper. We have just four short days together, each one of us in the moment and fully aware of the preciousness, beauty and the absolute rarity of what it is that we collectively brew up. We hug, we feast, we dance, we make love and deep music together, passing each other with smiles knowing full well that we’re all in on a little secret, an inside joke, a cosmic giggle. No need to wonder why or ask how it is that we are so blessed to be together here at our little camp beneath the glittering green. We just open up and freely accept it all with grace and deep gratitude. The less we know, the more we learn.