20 june 2003.

intensity cracked under our feet with the branches and leaves as we shuffled along the trail we couldn't see, using our "night vision" which meant leaving the flashlights behind and whatever daylight had caught itself in the trees by 9pm was the only help to guide us through these woods that could have been in a robert frost poem. we were all laughing and cluching arms and made it out (barely) with a newfound energy that lasts until the early morning.

(we lay across damp benches and laps and talk about the week and the next few and the others who have already fallen asleep. next to the fire, my face gets hot and the embers spark and crack and float upward. my stomach is full of graham crackers and it hurts when i laugh, but i don't even consider stopping.)

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