One of my titles in life: college student. I often find it pleasant to find a spot to embrace my thoughts or simply be and observe: A gentle breeze keeps dark green foliage in a constant rustle while it slips through hair and the clothing people have. It's warm, but the dancing wisps of wind keep us from feeling the strength of it. I can hear the chatter of a couple women in their twenties fifty head behind me and to my left discuss their Anatomy and Physiology expectations and nerves while marveling about all of the glowing words of their professor.
I know the professor. He's a kind, Asian man who has this brain full of knowledge, wisdom, and off-kilter humor. If thieves were in the business of selling knowledge, I would recommend using him as a starting point - granted he didn't need it anymore. However, he does have an audience of leeches, and I can proudly claim that I was one of the greedy little students, hoping to gain some of his insight of the world in terms of homo erectus and the interactions around it.
Speaking of interactions, there are three young boys standing at the top of the very long flight of stairs I've settled near. One appears to be eighteen or nineteen, while the other two are roughly twenty-three. All three come from different parts of the globe, and all three keep shifting their weight while they discuss something I can't comprehend. It's funny though; the longer they talk, they more they shift their weight and feet (especially while they laugh). In the four minutes they have been standing there, they have meandered nearly eight feet to the left, edging away from the stairs and towards a handicap only elevator. They have no purpose for the elevator; they merely keep shifting that direction.
My vantage point extends down over about a quarter of the campus as the staircase lends gateway into the lower half of the college. Our new library is reflecting the unhindered sunlight the most, making the eye glance in it's general direction at first. Our little theater? It reluctantly whispers its age standing next to the brand new, prized library. Both are glorious in their own rights. One holds an plethora of brain munchies, glass walls, and researching resources. The other holds graduations, plays, and concerts alike. Both valuable. Both priceless in their own right. Both bring a particular source of communion amongst spirits of all ages pursuing all walks of life.
The path that each person chooses is a private matter resulting from inner toil, larger callings, and the pursuit of happiness. The means by which these roads are traveled vary vastly. Perhaps some forget to realize that one does not need to be directly on a visible trail in order to cover some distance. The last time you were at a park or, say, a beach, there was a chance that you saw someone not walking on a walkway or road. Instead, they walked in the sand, on the grass, or in the dirt. What's the significance of this? They were following the path, but had a purpose for their choice. Just like the person making contact with the pavement.
What you likely also remember is that some people may never have touched the ground in getting there.
