It seems like very little time has passed, yet simultaneously feels as if it has been forever since I have sat here and reflected. It has been about one month. The wind feels frigid against my exposed hands, and it smells like winter. Yet, the lake is no longer frozen, it is fluid. Wind propelled ripples dance across its surface, and flocks of geese, mallards, and ringed necked ducks (the lake’s newest addition) float idly on their way. I sit for a moment, but nothing seems to jump out at me. Compared to the intricate layers of ice I saw last time, the lake seems almost nondescript. However, soon bright yellow daffodils jump out at me from the opposite bank. Then I turn to examine the loblolly I’m leaning against. At the base of the trunk vibrant green moss is hidden against layers of brown and grays. The bark folds and furrows in an impossible maze. I look up, the overcast sky is perforated by deep blue; and brown branches dotted with small buds contrast this soft backdrop.
It was easy to fall into the pattern of writing, to return to the same spot, and to sit against the same tree. Yet, though the location is the same, it is undeniable that the spot is different, both physically, and how I interpret it. Not only has the ice given way to water, and some of the first signs of springs are present, I have also changed. I have gained a month’s worth of experiences, and whether obviously or discretely, they have shaped me.
Pondering falling into familiar routines got me thinking about returning home after school. It seems so strange at first. I no longer go to high school, no longer have to wake up early, walk to school, complete classes, go to track practice, and walk home. I no longer follow a “normal” routine. My mom and sister have their set routines, yet I am no longer a part of that cycle. I belong to a new and different routine at Richmond, yet one that involves a similar basic schedule.
In a larger sense we are all active participants in this cycle. Simply by completing high school and attending college, we follow a plan that was laid out for us. Not to say that this was not my choice, or something I didn’t want to do. (I’ve always wanted to go college / absolutely love Richmond!) But, there really didn’t seem to be any other options. This is simply the way our world is organized.
Our whole world operates in cycles, water cycles, nitrogen cycles, seasons, etc. Everything undergoes an eternal rotation. Constantly moving away, yet forever returning. Products became reactants, and reactants become products. Spring becomes summer, summer goes to fall, fall turns to winter, and winter eases into spring. Cycles do, and forever will categorize our world.
More about ring necked ducks below!!!