I walked out of Hazen Hall into the Quad today. Today, all that was left were three crows playing on the grass were the only living creatures apart from myself in the square - you may not think crows play but they're quite jovial animals. I walked past them and they just stopped and stared, as though I didn't really belong there. I was invading the territory they had taken over.
The sound of the flags snapping in the crisp wind and the dry leaves being swirled across the brick path were the only sounds I heard. My heels echoed sharply against the cement walkway as I moved across this deserted area, an invader within my own home.
It's a discombobulating feeling, knowing that only a few weeks ago students were racing through the paths, across the grass to class, sitting on the bench enjoying a coffee and cigarette, laying under the tree for a quick break...and now, it's totally empty, drained of life. Slightly haunting.
These areas that are supposed to be loud, supposed to be active, have a feeling almost visible in the air when deserted. It's almost as if their energy knows there is supposed to be activity, commotion...anything. It's just waiting for something to happen but in the meantime, the buildings, the benches, even the grass just wait anxiously for that spark that will ignite them, wake them up from their dormant slumber.
January is coming and with it, the renewed energy of students hustling to smoke faster, not be late for class, and hide their faces against the sharp attack of the winter wind. January is coming but for now, winter break is upon us.