Oxford Musing

 

There is no weather so good as English weather. Nay, in a real sense there is no weather at all anywhere but in England.
- G. K. Chesterton

Sometimes I walk around or I gaze at the scene in front of me and I feel like I am in a dream. The floating kind of dream that sits gently for a moment, and then dissolves, except this is real. I walk around smiling softly a lot because it's that kind of dreaminess. The only reason I do not get slightly annoyed with the crowds at the busy intersections is because the rest of the city is so charming and beautiful, and I get out of the busy sections quickly. And whilst most students are away, these areas near my college are pretty quiet.

This is where a lot of thinking happens. Papers rigorously typed and revised. The hush of libraries. The cups of coffee essential to keeping minds awake. The click clack of oxford shoes striking the stone walkways as students hurry somewhere. Or maybe that is just me in my oxford shoes hurrying to get out of the drizzly rain.

Oxford is a place full of reminders of those achievements we all secretly wish we could accomplish, and we admire those who do. We respect the city, the history, and the culture of the air here.While it is a college town that could be viewed as just the norm of young people who study and then stay out late, this has the quality of the former that no other places can easily match. It is steeped in history and tradition. Every day I learn something new about it. It's amazing.

I do not have to really wonder what life is like here, anymore, for I am living here for a bit. I stop in the grocery store for a few items. I listen to the students talk at breakfast. I do my laundry in between breakfast and coffee. The Grove Quadrangle contains my home. Up the stairs and straight ahead is my room. It looks out toward the Lincoln College Library and has some views of the quaint brick chimney stacks. Quintessential England.