(Photo courtesy of NBC Boston) “UMass Lowell’s East Campus.”
Sameera Jangala
Connector Staff
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows of East Garage and grimace, hands flying to smooth my disheveled updo and straighten my coat. I stop to survey the finished product and sigh, glasses hanging low on the brim of my nose and straggling strands of hair further obstructing my view. In a rash motion, I swipe the frame off my face and tuck it into my jacket pocket. I blink twice at my now-blurry reflection, which looks a lot more acceptable given that I can no longer see it. Content, I resume my walk back to my room with minimal range of vision.
Buildings have become blocks, pedestrians have turned to specs, and cars remain obstacles. A slight breeze filters through the air and numbs my fingers. Shivering, I tuck my hands under my arms and look to the sky, clear and blue. Nearly barren tree branches dance in the wind, the last of the fall colors clinging on in false hope of warmer days. Sunlight seeps through the gaps left behind, illuminating the path before me. The sidewalk sparkles as it is struck by beams of light, as if stars had been plucked from the night sky and laid out to guide me on my journey. I wonder why I had not noticed it before.
Two figures are approaching me. I narrow my eyes to try and focus in on their faces, but I cannot make out who they are. They are similarly clad in long gray coats and blue scarves, blonde hair tucked away in neat, slicked back ponytails. Athletes, I presume. Lacrosse, if I had to guess. Their laughter echoes through the air as they playfully shove each other back and forth. They don’t seem as if they are in a rush to be anywhere, just enjoying each other’s company.
Just behind them, someone walks more hurriedly, iPad in one hand and what appears to be a half-bitten apple in the other. He swiftly overtakes the rambunctious pair and makes his way towards the Red Line. He repeatedly mutters something under his breath that I cannot decipher, no doubt cramming the last of his material on the way to an exam. I mentally wish him luck as he pushes past me as well. I wait a few more seconds before turning to observe his progress, wincing as I see his outline running towards a bus just beginning to pull out of the roundabout. I should have wished harder.
A group of runners in matching navy-blue ROTC gear jog past USuites and pause to run in place at the intersection. They look almost like a school of fish, bobbing in the waves and following one another to the ends of the earth. The girl at the front of the pack shouts out a “Hey, Sam!” at me, and I am caught off guard. I can’t quite tell who it is, but I smile, wave, and return the greeting as we cross the road going opposite directions.
I have nearly reached my destination, judging by the never-ending construction on River Hawk Village looming into view. I swing my backpack off my shoulders and onto the bench outside the entrance, taking a seat. I watch for a while as people filter in and out of the building. Coming from the gym, leaving for class. Going to practice, carrying in groceries. The cool autumn air has mercilessly kissed my face, rendering it slightly numb and undoubtedly red, but I am unbothered. I take a deep breath, feel it fill my lungs, and I hold it there. I let it sit. I sit. It’s 7 a.m. It’s a beautiful fall day. The world is coming to life, and I have seen so much and so little all at once.
