Vista 7

Part I: At My Spot, Everything is Gone or Giving in

After a week away, I come back to my spot on the hill to discover that all the leaves have let go. Some cling stubbornly to the skeletal branches, but soon they too will be shaken by these wintery winds. I am shocked by the change in scenery. How bare the hillside is. Or maybe I’m just frozen in place; today is definitely the coldest day yet. Ten minutes pass, and I’m no closer to sitting down or even reaching for my pen and notebook. The leaves at my feet are pear-shaped and larger than my hands. I pick one up and wave it back and forth like it’s a white flag. I give in. Today I woke up with a “cold.” As far as I’m concerned, it’s winter.

As I imagined earlier in the semester, my vista has opened up now that the leaves are gone. I can see through the open branches, down the hill, out over the entire valley. Some houses have lit fires and white smoke rises in straight pillars from little chimneys.

But the birds are gone. The crickets are dead or underground. They’re no longer singing from the trees or chirping from the reeds. The hum of machines fills these voids. Their lull comes at me from every direction, so soft it’s almost not there at all. If you don’t think about it, if you pretend it’s not there, the humming fades into the white sky, the numbing cold. And it’s gone.


Part II: I Decide to Walk Down the Tree-House Staircase

Tonight I decided to take a different route while walking home from class. There have been a number of robberies in my neighborhood lately (armed, at night,) and seeing as the way I go is very dark and not the most direct, I thought, why not be smart? I looked at a map and discovered that my best option was none other than my tree-house staircase! I was so excited to walk down the stairs I’d been sitting in front of and staring at for the past two months.

I descended the twisty stairs, illuminated in the night. I thought how in the summertime I would feel like I’m descending into the depths of the jungle, for then the plants were thick with leaves and probably grew right in through the railings. Maybe squirrels dropped nuts on its roof. Did they hit suddenly, scaring students, then role downward and slide back into the forest? I turn a right angle. Down more steps.

I reach the bottom of the staircase. There are less steps here than on the staircase I usually take. I look around me. A parking lot. And buildings. A man in his twenties unlocks the door to his car. This is where those deer were going, I think. Why were they going here? Is this all they have? I was so surprised to see the deer that night in such a populated space. But Chatham’s campus is natural and spacious, like a park. I am disappointed that this is where the staircase leads. Of course I have to be honest – I knew the steps would not lead down to a Garden of Eden. But for the deer, I’d hoped.