As I sat on the grass, I could smell the morning dew. I could see the morning sun peek over the cascading trees, casting a shadow upon the students seated on the beach. The loud voice of authority spread across the campground, the words carefully selected yet it seem like they were carelessly placed. Morning reflections drugged up the campers after a previously tiring night. After dismissal optimistic faces dart back and forth in search for their peers. The trudge to the mess hall provides various paths to food and warmth. This is Camp Hamilton.
This is IT
July 4, 2011