Epilogue: Part 2, What Can’t Be Forgotten

I try and think back, on this rainy day, what did my field look like when I first found it? And what I did I feel when I first saw her?

I must admit that although I’ve changed little I’m still different from back then and I don’t think I can look at it the same.

Much like the end of last semester I tried to capture a different perspective for this final entry. So I got this view from the back entrance where I don’t think that I’ve gotten a picture before. This picture and all the others were taken by me.

I looked at the usual spots of course including the view from the field and I saw that the path was quite lush and salubrious in contrast to the gray sky.

I also went back to that overlook, which you can see in the top left corner of the first picture, where I perched back when snow covered the terrain. But now the view is quite different.

I can’t really remember what I felt when I first saw her but I remember that I thought she was beautiful. Maybe it’s like how I stop on days like these to admire the flowers glistening on the trees like chandeliers.

I still think she’s beautiful but she’s lost something that for me made her precious. Still I like to think that I have some kind of connection to this place. She isn’t mine, she never was but that’s not so bad. I’m just a casual friend who acknowledges her existence with a polite hello or a nod of the head. It’s odd to think it but she has seen some of the ups and downs of this year for me.

She welcomed me within the first few days of my college experience and flashed a radiant smile.

She cast a glance my way as I took my new girlfriend out to walk her paths. And she noticed as I came with her again and again before I stopped coming.

I returned to find her sleeping under winter’s blanket and when she woke she might have found that my tracks had no partner.

But then and stretched her limbs, rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

I’m glad it was me and her, no one else, for this last day. I’d wanted just a one on one to think about where and who we were.

Much like me, She breathed in the rainy May day like a sweet nectar and showed me another beautiful smile.

Yeah I’m part of my place and She’s a part of me. Nothing big like my heart or my head but she’s a part of me in a minuscule way and I’d be over estimating myself if I said I was a single blade of grass in her midst. This land has been around for far too long and become part of far too many people for me to account for a big section. Just thinking about these others who were living here and had to leave this recent Winter I know that I’ve received and contributed far less than most.

This place is home to people and animals. Culture and Nature. I focused on the latter during most of Fall. I didn’t mention those living there and I didn’t think about how the people of the neighborhood must use this space. Did they take walks like I did? Did they care when their entrance was taken?

If you were curious the development seems to be proceeding smoothly.

Quite a lot has gotten done since I got back.

Obviously some valued the land for development and I’m sure some will value the housing it will provide. I just wonder if they too will value my favorite red maple or the birds that flutter to and fro. I often forget to think about this but this is undoubtedly a great part of this land where I have passed my time. And it is this that has caused such great changes in the beauty I knew. I won’t see that patch of bright, colorful flowers that originally drew me in anymore.

And there’s also what was unduly left behind like the rock and dirt seen in the above picture. This unassuming little patch is most certainly not untouched by human creation and waste.

But there’s always something to look forward to. I love days like these. I can breath in the essence of spring and I get to see these guys:

I remember seeing them this time most years. I love how soft they are. It’s when I look at this that I think maybe someday I’ll come back.

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