Wednesday, September 24, 2003
Autumn bliss
It is a gorgeous Fall day in Philadelphia.
As I walked to work this morning, it took nearly no effort at all to put myself back in time four years to my junior year at Rosemont. I am in navy blue mesh shorts and a white long-sleeved t-shirt from Founder's Day 1998. Walking across the Green to grab some breakfast at the T before going to Lawrence Hall for my 9:00 English class. 19th Century British Novel with Murphy or Literature from the Restoration with Macartney. Nikes and ankle socks- dew from the grass wetting the laces and my ankles.
I have always loved the Fall but being at Rosemont clinched it as my favorite season. I am a city girl and as a result, the change of seasons is evident but not obvious. At Rosemont, the trees whisper the change of seasons so loudly that you can't help but notice. When I close my eyes, I can feel the wind blowing and the orange and yellow leaves falling around me as I walk from the T towards Connelly Hall. It is beautiful and peaceful and soft.
I miss those moments of being so at one with the changes in nature. I love city life, the bustling, the stores, the people, the buses, the street cleaners and dog walkers and construction men. But I miss the quiet, the crunching of leaves, the sound of the wind in the trees, the trickle of water into the pond, the light on Rathalla at 4:00 on a Thursday afternoon in late September.
As I walked to work this morning, it took nearly no effort at all to put myself back in time four years to my junior year at Rosemont. I am in navy blue mesh shorts and a white long-sleeved t-shirt from Founder's Day 1998. Walking across the Green to grab some breakfast at the T before going to Lawrence Hall for my 9:00 English class. 19th Century British Novel with Murphy or Literature from the Restoration with Macartney. Nikes and ankle socks- dew from the grass wetting the laces and my ankles.
I have always loved the Fall but being at Rosemont clinched it as my favorite season. I am a city girl and as a result, the change of seasons is evident but not obvious. At Rosemont, the trees whisper the change of seasons so loudly that you can't help but notice. When I close my eyes, I can feel the wind blowing and the orange and yellow leaves falling around me as I walk from the T towards Connelly Hall. It is beautiful and peaceful and soft.
I miss those moments of being so at one with the changes in nature. I love city life, the bustling, the stores, the people, the buses, the street cleaners and dog walkers and construction men. But I miss the quiet, the crunching of leaves, the sound of the wind in the trees, the trickle of water into the pond, the light on Rathalla at 4:00 on a Thursday afternoon in late September.
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