... The last term of my life in this beautiful university.
I arrived back to gorgeous sunshine, which meant lolling in the grass for tea with my housemates, sitting outside for lunch, yoga with Jacob in the sunlight squares of my window followed by sweet potato and chickpea curry for dinner in the garden, having a picnic with Harriet, cartwheels whilst on a walk with Jacob and, once on a hot and sweaty mid-afternoon run, changing my usual course to head to the riverbank and slipping slowly in to its cold water. This is what I want to remember of my time here - the friendship, the countless runs and the moments of spontaneity. Harriet and I talked about bottling up bits of sunshine to tide us through difficult winter weather, but I'd also like to bottle up the people and moments and feelings... In first year on one equally sunny afternoon, sitting beside the river with Alex and Mariella, Alex asked us for three words to describe the moment. She talked of hot asphalt and trees, and I said something like 'ducks, daisies and the dappled reflection of water on boats'. Three words for this week: oh, forever please.
On the last properly sunny day of the week, Jacob and I found a bit of Sid gardens without people in it (initially) and I spread my sarong and we ate burritos (which we at first put on the 'worst foods to eat on a date' list, and then proceeded to eat them without spilling anything like the champions we are) and then lay down and looked at the clouds which moved quickly over the sky. There was one that looked like an alien. 'I just keep thinking how weird it is that this time last year I didn't know you - not really.' It is strange, that in the span of a year someone who I'd watch disappear back to his room after choir is now my best friend and so much more. That I know what his room looks like, and also how much of a mug of porridge he eats, and how he prays. 'Yes, it is strange. I don't think I thought it through rationally, and yet I was sure.'
I arrived back to gorgeous sunshine, which meant lolling in the grass for tea with my housemates, sitting outside for lunch, yoga with Jacob in the sunlight squares of my window followed by sweet potato and chickpea curry for dinner in the garden, having a picnic with Harriet, cartwheels whilst on a walk with Jacob and, once on a hot and sweaty mid-afternoon run, changing my usual course to head to the riverbank and slipping slowly in to its cold water. This is what I want to remember of my time here - the friendship, the countless runs and the moments of spontaneity. Harriet and I talked about bottling up bits of sunshine to tide us through difficult winter weather, but I'd also like to bottle up the people and moments and feelings... In first year on one equally sunny afternoon, sitting beside the river with Alex and Mariella, Alex asked us for three words to describe the moment. She talked of hot asphalt and trees, and I said something like 'ducks, daisies and the dappled reflection of water on boats'. Three words for this week: oh, forever please.
On the last properly sunny day of the week, Jacob and I found a bit of Sid gardens without people in it (initially) and I spread my sarong and we ate burritos (which we at first put on the 'worst foods to eat on a date' list, and then proceeded to eat them without spilling anything like the champions we are) and then lay down and looked at the clouds which moved quickly over the sky. There was one that looked like an alien. 'I just keep thinking how weird it is that this time last year I didn't know you - not really.' It is strange, that in the span of a year someone who I'd watch disappear back to his room after choir is now my best friend and so much more. That I know what his room looks like, and also how much of a mug of porridge he eats, and how he prays. 'Yes, it is strange. I don't think I thought it through rationally, and yet I was sure.'
It's strange to think that this place, which I hardly knew when I arrived, has become so dear, so like home. And it's strange to think I'm leaving in a months time.
Sometimes the future scares me. Why? Because so much of it is unknown. But -
'I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love.' John 15:9
-I know I am safe with You, and safe in Your love. It might seem irrational to place certainty in love - will love keep me safe in London, or guide me through a six years of heritage work, or sustain me through my finals? Perhaps not directly, not in the way sticking to public areas, reading museum theory or studying, eating and resting healthily does. But in my little experience of a love that holds and promises, I can also say yes, love can, and more.
'--and be sure of this—that I am with you always, even to the end of the world.' Matthew 28:20
'So don't leave me.'
'I won't.'
Sometimes the future scares me. Why? Because so much of it is unknown. But -
'I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love.' John 15:9
-I know I am safe with You, and safe in Your love. It might seem irrational to place certainty in love - will love keep me safe in London, or guide me through a six years of heritage work, or sustain me through my finals? Perhaps not directly, not in the way sticking to public areas, reading museum theory or studying, eating and resting healthily does. But in my little experience of a love that holds and promises, I can also say yes, love can, and more.
'--and be sure of this—that I am with you always, even to the end of the world.' Matthew 28:20
'I won't.'
No comments:
Post a Comment