The Death of Summer

Fall has always been one of my favorite seasons; I love the way the colors turn to beautiful deep reds, brilliant yellows and rich oranges. I look forward to the crisp air and the crunch of the earth under my feet. This love affair was cemented the moment I witnessed the sun coming out from behind the clouds and bouncing off the gorgeous colors of the mountains around campus. One of my favorite spots to sit and read for class was the third floor west of the Bartle Library with its floor to ceiling windows and comfortable chairs. The 3W was not remodeled like 4W, the lights where dim, there were not as many desks or cubicles, and there were still couches against the windows. 3W faced the nature preserve, where the clouds would slowly dissipate as the sun rose in the sky and set the colors afire. It was the perfect place to curl up with some tea and the Bronte sisters or Raymond Chandler.

The fall was different up there than it is on the Island; it was almost as if Mother Nature as making up for the lack of spring in April. Fall would linger a bit longer, the colors were resilient even to the frost that would creep in during October. There were fifty different types of apples available in every supermarket and cider mill; the cider was made as you stood in line and would turn to applejacks if it lasted that long in the refrigerator.

This is the start of my last semester as a student; and it is very bitter sweet. I have always loved school; especially my time as an undergraduate at Binghamton, however now I cannot wait until the last day of graduate school. There is just something about this program, these courses, the type of inane work the professors assign that makes me want to run away from it all. It is a shame that my love for school has been soured by a program that has nothing to do it the actual work I do day to day. I never want to step foot in another class for as long as I live. The desire to continue learning will never die, it has just shifted away from University learning.

I will savior the death of summer and fondly remember the beauty of those falls.