As I leave Dhall yet again with a full belly and a sense of shame, I decide to take the long way back to my dorm, Lakeview Hall. This “long way” is much more scenic, continuing around the back of the Westhampton lake instead of beside the Commons, and so it is certainly my preferred route, although I more frequently choose the faster option.
The usual path back to the dorms is perfectly flat the whole way, and requires only one turn to be made to get to your destination. I realize that does not sound like anything to complain about, but it certainly becomes mundane after a time. The longer path however is constantly sloping and turning, and is lined by trees throughout. As I pass them and feel a slight breeze pick up, I smile and think of their leaves as dancing, although rustling is a more appropriate term
I continue along my trail and wonder to myself why I do not choose to walk this way more often. As I come to the bridges on the far side of the lake, I am still more thankful for the breeze, as I love looking at the water through the cracks of the wood, especially when the sunlight hits it just so. This is because I am unable to tell if the water beneath me is shimmering or rippling, whether it is the breeze or the light that is toying with it.
I cross the second bridge and proceed towards my living space but pause when I hear a dog bark to my left. I turn my head instinctively just in time to see a woman’s head pass out of view around the green baseball hut. Realizing she must be walking her dog and so there is a path up there, I decide to see for myself. I change my course of direction and trudge up the small hill that leads to the baseball dugout with the green hut on it’s left, and I see that there is a narrow dirt path that winds around the circular bend. I follow it, and am surprised to see that it continues all the way to the x-lot on the other side of the field. Happy to have discovered a path that I did not previously know about, I trick myself into believing that I had just discovered a secret. I let myself lean back onto the tall fence behind me, and smile as I enjoyed my find. In front of me, the ground slopes steeply down to a narrow stream, and the occasional car passes on the road opposite that stream. Here, the same breeze that had followed me since I had left lunch had no free room to roam, with it’s natural path disrupted by the fences. They caused the wind to act sporadically, dying down for a time and then whipping up at a moment’s notice. The dancing of the leaves was especially favorable here, as their choreography was randomized. To my left, I hear a dog bark, and a different woman rounds the corner with her companion pet. I turn and go on my way.