Sitting by the River Don or; How I Spent My Day

After walking up to campus to pick my Student ID card, I decided to park my butt down my the river for a while. It hadn't been a particularly inspiring morning-- my throat hurt, I found a brand-new blister, I fought and lost with Adobe over how to fill out a form, and my ID is atrocious. I genuinely hope that, should I perish in some tragic tram accident, the officials would be unable to identify me from this picture. Completely wretched.

So I strayed from the formal gardens to the more rustic and natural riverside. Don't get me wrong, the manicured gardens are absolutely beautiful, but there's something in me that calls out for the wild and the rugged and the unkempt. (Not in men, just in landscapes.) So wander I did, and found a little dip in the bank leading to some exposed tree roots and a scholl of last years fallen leaves. I looked at one of the slightly sheltered level places and thought, "Yeah, that's about as wide as my ass," and began to billy-goat my way to the edge of the river. Briefly considering the possibility that my little flat shoes were not equal to the task of keeping me out of the river, I wondered what had happened to my sense of adventure. As it was, I made the descent in fine shape, and I flopped down and found myself completely isolated from the occasional passerby, with the path to my back and above my ears.

The river was beautiful. Peaceful, fast-moving, bubbling, cooling-- all of it. I watched the occasional leaf float by, saw people and their dogs come and go a little further down on the bank. I'm beginning to realize that this is sort of how my life is going to go: I'm going to find a beautiful perch, but I'm also going to be there alone.

I'm getting to be okay with that... It's just going to take me a while.