Spring

This spring (apart from the nasty weather that has found its way to Ithaca the last two days) has constantly reminded me of Lakeville. The springtime in Connecticut, especially that part, was always a beautifully energized season. As the weather warmed and students drifted out of doors, the school seemed to finally release the breath it had held all winter. Snow melted and trees blossomed, the sun stayed higher later, and with the introduction of a new dress code, students were finally free to enjoy themselves without the strict supervision of dormitory walls. 

But there's something different about college. Perhaps the difference is in me, but the spring has lost some of its enjoyment. The constant company that Taylor provided has now passed; I wander the paths of my daily life alone. 

As I look around, I realize that of course, I am the one who has changed. The students here are no different than the students at Hotchkiss. They are, perhaps, more diverse, a little older, a little more hardworking; but their attitudes are just as my attitude was for the last four years. The buds on the trees signal a new energy in the air. Couples flock together, young lust pervades the newborn grass. 

And yet, I enjoy observing. I've missed the chance to look around me, stuck as I was in vanity. My relationship with Taylor was wonderful--I won't degrade it now--but it swallowed me. I lost myself in the joy of the moment, forgetting to pause and look around me. 

So now I'll keep my head up and my eyes open, for the world is constantly shifting, and I wouldn't want to miss it.