For some reason this college essay popped into my mind recently.  Here it is, slightly revised (and needing more).

Finally it’s empty. I walk by often. Usually, it is already taken, rudely filled with the backpack and books of another student. Nearly every time I pass, a new thief reclines in my chair and enjoys my table. But not this time. Finally, my study spot is free, and so, relishing the glorious moment, I sit down.

Surely this seat reigns as the best study place on campus. Three large windows send countless rays of natural light cascading onto the generous table. In the library, a place of cold dark shelves, the table is an oasis of light. Perhaps, its best quality is the view. Sitting there, one can glimpse into the outside world and look out over the snow-covered track, past Carleton’s lofty tower, to the empty fields of Rice County. And so, I take off my bag, unzip my jacket, and sit down to study. Peace. My sacred table. Life is quiet and good.

“Hey Adam,” shrieks a voice from behind, “have you seen Ashlee?”

“No, no I haven’t” I respond with reserved disgust.

“Oh, because it’s such a beautiful day that some of us are walking into town for supper. We can’t find her to tell her though, so if you see her, tell her I’m looking for her,” the voice harps on.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, “I’ll tell her.” We smile. I return to my reading, but, my focus is gone. It is a beautiful day and I’m stuck here. All of a sudden my spot, the most splendid study spot of them all, is tainted. I flip through my book, perturbed with the world.

Then, like a snowball launched from behind, it hits me. Reading my Romantic poets, recalling the Romantic artists of yesterday’s lecture, I realize, I, too, am I Romantic of sorts if not for the incontrovertible reason that I love this table: the most nature-friendly spot in the entire library. The natural light, the glorious view, at this table high in the library’s grasp, nature shows her hand.

Sadly, society these days seems to forget what’s outside the window. One might think it’s hard to forget nature during winter in Minnesota. After all, it’s hard not to notice when one’s nose hairs freeze. But what do we do but notice it’s damn cold and run from one heated building to another? I spend more time each day in the bathroom than I do outdoors. One could blame it on Minnesota winters, but I think it’s more than that. Look at society’s top jobs: doctor, lawyer, businessperson. Have you ever been diagnosed outside or given a deposition on the law office porch? Every day the businessperson steps from an insulated house to a covered garage and into a SUV with dual-climate controlled ventilation. Perhaps the worker has a VIP spot at the front door, requiring as little time as possible outside. The top workers in our society never see the light of day. Society tells us to trap ourselves inside and avoid nature’s unruliness.

We use umbrellas to shield us from the rain. That’s good, though, because we melt if we get wet, right? Or treadmills, whose idea was that? Why should I run on four feet of rotating rubber when there’s a perfectly good (and long) trail outside? Ever wonder why it’s such a treat to have class outside? It’s because we’re never out there. We forgot what it’s like. We’re too sophisticated for nature.

Maybe my study spot isn’t so good after all. Maybe, since it’s a pretty day, I can get a blanket and find a bench outside. Maybe I’ll take a long walk with a friend-wouldn’t that be romantic.

image by Lies Meirlaen