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Recently I’ve been having those days where it’s too tempting to do nothing. I’m usually no nonsense when it comes to getting to the gym, but I think the weather turning cold again as well as my studies becoming more intense has made me feel lethargic. But I got my butt off the couch and to the gym, and I found that everything was thought-provoking.
I crossed the bridge, the one I’ve crossed one hundred times on my trek to Eppley. The one that plays with the familiarity of home, because it looks just like the one in Middletown Park. I kept my eyes to the horizon, searching for the perfect moment, another beautiful shot that’s never quite the same as seeing it with your own eyes, feeling that wonder take hold of your heart.
Even my HIIT class itself made me feel lighthearted. I need to learn to smile more. I’ll add it to my mental list.
On my walk home, the sun glows behind me, against me, warming my skin as if the whole world has always been trying to make me smile and I’ve just been too oblivious to notice. I cross that familiar bridge and I’m shocked to finally notice the stark contrast between the trees and the concrete. I wonder if I’ll ever find beauty in a place like College Park, so wrought with cement and brick, an unfinished game of Tetris.
I think we must be a foolish species, to think we can improve nature. Try as we might, we all know of a building that has been made more beautiful because a vine wound its way up a wall. I think of the little weeds that somehow break through cracks in the sidewalk, how persistent they must be. Maybe I should add that to the list too. Be persistent – I can do anything.
I cross the other, boring bridge that leads me to my complex and reminds me of nothing and no one. I decide to make my way to the small river under it. I haven’t done this before, but I’m curious.
After shaking off the embarrassing feeling of people watching me, I am surprised by my own awe. The river listens to the wind as it whispers its delight, having chased all the clouds from the sky again today. I spot some fish in the river, just floating, sharing this calm moment with me and the river and the wind. Of course Pocahontas pops into my head. The color of the wind must be blue, as that’s the only color in the sky today. Or maybe it’s also green as it runs through the grass, plays through the trees. Maybe brown as it playfully unravels my hair. I guess the wind could be any color. It must be fun.
As I said, my studies are becoming more pressing. If I wasn’t so close to graduating, I think I might just drop out, work part-time, and do whatever I want with my days. I’m keeping my eyes on the summer. I have big plans. So I stand, parting with my wonder, and I climb my way back to reality with a new understanding of why sailors are drawn to sirens.