Huddled - a 9/11/ remembrance
(Writer's Note: I was with about 100 other campers at Camp Cedar Glen in Julian, CA when the 9/11 attacks happened.) All throughout the Monday night campfire, there's this creeping unease that's about as wary-making as a childhood premonition the night before the back of Grandma Crow's house caught on fire. It's palpable but not super-imposing--things just feel weird. Maybe it's because we're using the outdoor chapel at the top of the hill instead of the fire pit down at the bottom of the hill like usual. Fire season is bad this year, so our only choice is to have our fires up here in a containment bern. Everything else feels fine and Monday night games are fun like usual, so the feeling gets shrugged off and then forgotten. After a parusing of the snack counter and giving a few hugs, it's time to call it a night. As I step outside the door of Cedar Glen cabin and walk across the way to Camerer Hall for breakfast, the sun warms the bones evenly