2005-06-20
i hardly knew who you were or what you meant
I woke up to the sound of a ringing phone this morning--my mother, reminding me of my doctor's appointment to get my Meningitis vaccine.
It's all the rage--everyone's getting a Meningitis vaccine. At least, everyone who is an entering freshman at university.
The day's passed by rather quickly. 10 a.m. traffic wasn't too bad, and I had a chance to look at the new buildings that seems to pop up out of nowhere these days. "Keeping S--a Beautiful"--as is the city's motto--is now becoming an excuse for dozens of investment firms, condos, and banks with alluring architecture to try their luck in a piece of land.
There's a cup of tea that stands idle to my right. The steam is much to graceful and ethereal for it not to be...woman. Steam dancing out of a tea cup is something capable of hypnotizing. And my orientation papers are scattered about--I've probably gone mad to leave all important things to the last minute. Before I'd have done all of this in a matter of two weeks. In one sense, I find myself concerned at the fact that I am becoming much too comfortable. Not taking things seriously is a certain deathwish for any hopes of academic success.
My class schedule, however--and after tedious reading--is complete. I resorted to making a "T-list" of Economics on one side and Political Science on the other. Thankfully, many of the required electives for one course can satisfy requirements for the other, making double-majoring an easier task.
I've seen the great Rush-Rhees library at Rochester, and it reminds of the Senate building. It is breathtaking, and, much more modern and appealing than Georgetown's own library. Methinks most of it is marble: the floors, the stairs, the pillars, etc. I walked in there in April and tried so hard to imagine myself on a rainy day, or a sunny day, or a bleary winter morning.
I looked out the cafeteria windows on that April afternoon and--aside from feel guilty that I was missing Calculus--saw naked trees: branches stripped of their old, to-be-forgotten leaves. Rochester feels quite "collegiate"; at least, in the manner in which I would describe it.
It's also quite far away from home and what I've regarded all these years as familiar. Dusks have settled and diluted into the fickle sky, and my moleskines are proof that I have witnessed most of them.
My drive to the appointment this morning was almost sad. My afternoon walks will no longer pursue the same, comfortable route. I have had a particular route since the age of fifteen. Trees have stood there and sighed the sighs of Lorca, while the cool waters of the brook accepted my worries and wishes and lamentations. My past intertwined with my readings makes everything all the more meaningful, and walking through nature, the words of Walt Whitman truly come to life: "...You'll hardly know who I am, or what I mean...".
And that goes all the freshly fallen, or old and whithering leaves that have graciously cushioned my sojourning feet.
The scents of nature. The feel of an afternoon sun. The image of a barren tree--branches stretched out under a silver sky. The forest that has provided my thoughts with settings in which to breed feelings, and emotion needed to breed thoughts. Recollections after a long day, and the endless horizon to entertain my hopes of wonderful possibilities. Ah, at the time I hardly knew who any of you were, or what you meant...but I leave me with you, and despite the un-answered questions, there will remain an understanding that will bring peace.
I'll be eternally alive and well in that particular route, with its particular corners and particular memories.
Is the moon out in Florida? Alastair asked last night.
Yes...the moon is out and bright, I replied.
Good, we now have something in common.
You haven't mentioned the moon since the night we decided to begin a relationship.
I know, but some memories are so essential, that they have to be re-lived.