An excerpt from Jessika Yamaguchi’s diary, July 17, 2003

Just when I thought the weirdest thing about this place was how everyone is always so cheerful. On the way back from the campout (memo to self: an experience that should not ever be repeated, if possible), we went past the weirdest meadow I’ve ever seen. I mean, this place is lousy with meadows. The one we camped in is called the north meadow, and I guess maybe it’s the farthest north out of all of them, but I don’t really know much about orienting, or whatever that is when you walk around with a compass to guide you. I have a sneaking suspicion that some of the meadows may actually be bogs, too, what with how damp some parts of this camp are. But that’s neither here nor there.

So yes, the weirdest me...

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