vesper placidus

My, my, being downtown first thing in the morning is nothing foreign to me but doing it on a Saturday, today might've actually been a first for me. Well, after a surprisingly enjoyable training session about how to stick someone with a needle (something I still can't legally do for a year despite the training) and a less enjoyable attempt at doing readings, I went for a walk around campus. Boy, was this Saturday evening different from the weekdays. On top of the peculiar paucity of people, they closed down a fair number of roads (for some sort of book festival). The sun had recently come out of hiding after a day that had been mostly characterized by rain (finally got to use that umbrella after, how long's it been, 3 months?).

So picture this: standing still, with the sun sandwiched between the cloud line and the horizon shining clearly to the right and with birds fervently jumping back and forth along a vine wall to the left, the normal university hubbub with its busy-bodies and integrated city traffic strangely absent replaced with the sounds of chirping and the muffled sounds of a piano playing in a closed room somewhere in the near distance, all bundled together with the smell of fresh, cool, moist air that follows after any long period of rain in the autumn (I guess technically it's late summer, given that autumn officially starts tomorrow). What a very welcome novelty.

I've never been a particularly experiential guy, but I would like to remember this moment.