This past weekend, Creative Writing went on our annual camping trip to Kirby Cove. During community weeks, our department head, Heather Woodward, organizes the overnight trip from Saturday to Sunday morning. Although the site is difficult to get, we always manage to find a way to lock our trip into place. Heather has spearheaded this camping trip for over a decade; she chooses a handful of parents who prepare for the trip and ensure everything runs smoothly. Each year, new parents are joined by the few parents whose children graduated from our department several years ago. We bring pots, pans, pancake mix, and a grill strapped to the back of a truck to camp, merging the new and old generations. 

This year, our site was on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea and the Golden Gate Bridge. We set up our sleeping bags beneath a Juniper tree, while our chaperones began to grill sweet bell peppers and sausages for dinner (we snacked on the pile of chips that were arranged on the picnic table). One of my favorite traditions at Kirby is gathering on the beach to run across the sand, hold hands, and belly-flop into the water. After we toweled off, the seniors and some of the freshmen tried to complete a scavenger hunt full of tasks and riddles that the juniors created. 

When the night approached, we celebrated a fifteenth birthday with cinnamon-roll blondies. Every year, we sit under the moon and share our lives with each other, all cozy in our sleeping bags. Here, beneath the moonrise, we witnessed a flock of geese fly silently across the sky in a V formation. It felt as if everything was alive: the darkness weaving through the trees, the nearly silent bushes, and even the sweet, yellow moon. At Kirby, we sat on the beach in the dark, talking and getting all excited about the sea lion silhouettes popping up and disappearing into the waves; this is a memory that will stay with me, one that I will not forget. 

Beneath the eucalyptus trees, we are provided with the space to open up and become closer to each other. Each year, we pass on our traditions to the new members of the department, who will share them with the next generation of Creative Writers, even after we are gone. The nature that we are exposed to and the experiences we have at Kirby Cove inspire our writing and allow us to be vulnerable with each other in our community and in the writing that we share. I will always be grateful for Kirby Cove; to have lived, for a day, in this mystical forest by the sea.