[Another excerpt from Adventures of Writers Who Walk journal. January 24, 2013. Again, unprompted.]
I secretly enjoy walking around campus alone when it’s dark. There is a calculated thrill of potential (though unlikely) danger. It lingers alongside the peace of solitude. Truth be told, I love to be alone. I do not like to be lonely, but I love to choose to be alone. When I walk through the dark and empty Belmont campus, I don’t feel alone — I feel happy. Extraordinarily grateful to belong to a place as special as this, with history and a promise of an incredible future.
I used to shrink back from the old statues, now I smile at them. The trickling sound of out of sight fountains in the distance makes me sometimes feel like I’m walking past a gentle stream. I am particularly falling in love with the bare trees silhouetted in front of the bell tower and the setting sun as I walk to dinner. If I were a good enough photographer, I might be able to capture that perfect dusk moment, but for now, I will just attempt to remember it, imprint it on the grooves of my brain.