hey stranger!

cheers to mandatory field trips

I attended a strange school in the mountains with strange classes and strange assignments. I only now understand the strangeness of it all after trading stories with classmates throughout college who flat out tell me, “That is very strange.” Although I held (perhaps still hold) resentment for my rocky math foundation and inability to name the state capitols, I have found that through it all, I have a comprehensive and immersive understanding of nature. 

From day-long field trips sprung overnight science camps that began in the fourth grade, in which we ventured to Coloma to pan for gold and bake cornbread over the fire. The next year, bussed across the bridge to the Marin Headlands, tracing our fingers in the wet sand to see the bioluminescent plankton flash their light in annoyance. The next year was Yosemite, where I contracted strep throat for the first time and peed my pants for the last time. 

And then there was Catalina Island. Each morning at sunrise, we stumbled into our bathing suits and sprinted into the ocean before the sleep was wiped from our eyes, and the sweet warmth of bed could beckon us back to our tents. We kayaked through blankets of seaweed that had loosened from last week's storm and listened quietly to the packs of coyotes calling to one another as they prowled the hillsides. On one of my last nights, I wait until the sun dips well below the horizon and venture out with a small group to brave the dark waters and snorkel. After swimming quietly through dense patches of seaweed, our guide instructs us to turn off our flashlights and wave our hands through the water. The path of my hand lights up, leaving a trail of glowing blue as the plankton shimmer in the dark water. Breathtaking. Surreal. Oh, the wonders of nature!

Between then and now, I have lost my braces and kept my appreciation for my strange education at my strange school. Thank you, Strangeness.