Getting back to it

Classes start(ed) today.  There is something totally wonderful about the beginning of the school year.  Students are excited, professors are fresh, the air seems full of the promise of knowledge and accomplishment, even the leaves reflect the change in their autumnal metamorphosis.  I have always loved the fall with its chilly winds and their promise of winter, but college has shaded my favorite season a slightly different color.  Fall is full of nostalgia for me and as I walked to class this morning I thought about friends that are no longer here.  Friends that had a huge part in defining this space and this time of year for me.  And while these thoughts were dripping through the sieve of my mind like lethargic molasses it finally hit me, this is the beginning of the end of this stage of my life.  This is my last year of undergrad, my last year at Morris, my senior freaking year.  It’s hard to believe that I’ve arrived at this place, both physically and mentally, especially when from where I started this journey.  I’m a puzzle made up of pieces that I’ve picked up on the way and looking across this as-yet uncompleted project makes me both sad about the things through which I have passed and excited for the things to come.  Bring it, senior year.

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