|synaptic disunion|

Monday, July 02, 2007

quiet old things...

I went on a walk during lunchtime today. It was nice out. The gloomy forecast of dire heat had yet to express itself into reality, and the breeze still hinted at the cool temperatures of this morning.

I found myself in front of the Administration building on the campus where I work, and turned to look at the front of the building. I love this old building. I don't know if its the oldest building on campus, but it's one of the most stately, that's for sure. The trees, whose shade I took advantage of as I walked through this park like setting, rustled in different tones and different frequencies. The low swoosh of the tall pine undergirding the high pitched rustle of the broad leafed trees was a peaceful combination. I paused my walk, and leaned against one of these 100 year old trunks, to rest, and listen.

How many students have done just this? Sat, and looked at their surroundings. This campus, underrated by many, is by far one of the most beautiful campuses in the area. I take advantage of this. I get out of my office as often as I can, and just sit on the grass and think, and listen.

As I leaned my back against that tree, I thought of the students 100 years ago, who passed through these pillars, who learned here, who lived, met, and fell in love on this campus. I saw the long dresses of the NORMAL students, the leather caps of the early football team and the blue uniforms of WWI soldiers. Their ghosts are in this park, living on...you can hear them, if you're quiet, and you listen.

: toadman : at Monday, July 02, 2007 |