Fresh Food, Stones of Death, and Souls Swept in Ice

This weekend has been quite a lazy one - I think I needed it. I ran down to the first day of the farmers' market yesterday around noon and quickly looked over the goods out for sale. The selection wasn't fantastic, but I have yet to successfully get away from any trip into the market without bread and cheese. This time it was some old fashioned white bread, which was enjoyably thick and almost fruity, and a round of goat's cheese, salty and smooth. Walking back home with my purchases, I ran into Mr. Wallace eating lunch with Dean Rutenbeck. I chatted briefly with them for a moment, which left me feeling pretty great. There aren't many people that can say the dean of their division of the college knows their name and has a good enough understanding of what they're doing to inquire and comment.

Despite the pleasure I felt in that conversation, my energy dwindled over the day. My dorm was filled with talk of Lord of the Rings Online and D&D, neither of which I am involved with by any means. I don't begrudge the people who play them, but when it's all you hear out of their mouths half of the time, it gets old fast. Desiring space to myself, I sat out in the sun and read a bit. Unfortunately, it only made me sleepy. Dinner rolled around and some thought-provoking conversation followed, but D&D became the dorm focus for the evening, as far as my acquaintances were concerned. When I attempted to find solace in my room, all I found was a roommate passed out on the bed by the door. After another hour or two of reading off of my computer, I ventured out into the night.

I have found it safe to say that if I seek a place to let my soul breathe, I will undoubtedly be lying in a graveyard. This isn't meant to be a morbid comment. There's a decent sized graveyard on North Willard Street that I've walked to a few times in the night hours. It's probably creepy to admit as much, but I adore the place. There are so few spots left in the world that possess such a powerful aura of solitude and the steady passage of time. I read the names when I can catch a glimpse, but the bright orange lights around the place often make it difficult to see anything other than silhouettes. Usually when I visit this graveyard, I stick to the path, wandering a bit up the dirt road to the top of the hill and sitting on a staircase that overlooks the road from a steep angle. This time, I ventured from the path a bit towards a clump of trees, hoping it would shade me from the glaring lights. As I got closer, they appeared to be in a circle around a lone, tall grave. The trees did not provide enough protection, but I was able to lie down next to the grave and hide in its slim shadow.

From where I lay with my face looking up at the sky, I could see a few twinkling stars framed by the branches of the three nearest trees. They were relatively faint, but I felt like I'd found a small bit of home. Back in New Hampshire, I've gotten into the habit of running outside whenever anyone calls my phone - the reception is terrible, but it's not too bad if I cross the road and get up on top of the hill by the graveyard there. I hadn't even thought about the fact that there's a graveyard there as well until just now. Usually, I lay down on the big hill and stare up at the sky until I get too cold to stay any longer. For some odd reason, people usually call me for long conversations at night.

I've always loved the feeling of immensity that looking at stars gives me. It's a feeling that few objects on Earth can generate, the exception being an ocean of tall buildings. The love I have for this feeling is something of a melancholy, though - I wish to be part of that immense idea that defines the universe, yet the wish feels utterly impossible. I was contemplating this emotion last night when it began to look as if the stars were shaking. It was the strangest sensation, until I realized that I'd been lying on my hands and my pulse had simply started to rock my head ever so slightly. I think that's the closest I've ever come to feeling connected to a greater power in the world. Second on the list is torrential downpours. I could use one of those, too.

As for today, I finally finished the book I got for my birthday. Now I can wholeheartedly say thanks, Wes! I haven't often read nonfiction for pleasure before, but the subject matter was both compelling and eye-opening. The story of the Inukjaumiut relocated to the brutal north extended over many more decades than I ever would have imagined, and their heartbreaking tale was one that evoked sympathy for their situation as well as deeper understanding and interest in their culture. It may not be very relevant to anything I'm working on anymore, but it was a great read related to a topic I'm still completely fascinated with.

I've run into some scheduling conflicts that I hope to have sorted out within the next few days. They burden my mind when I think of them, but for the most part I've been able to completely separate myself from business matters for the day. It's a feeling that has become more foreign to me than I had realized. I don't think that's healthy by any means, but part of me just wonders if it's a testament to the love I have for the people and projects I work with.

I feel as if I had more to say, but I think I've said enough. My general conclusion for the day is that I hope the summer continues in this same fashion, with enough space from work left for me to do some intellectual spelunking of my own.