Beads of water formed on the outside of a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade. They reflected the sunlight and made the pitcher glow as if summer itself was contained within the glass.
We spread a blanket, whose pink flowers had faded from years of sun-exposure, but the emerald grass was so long and soft that we almost didn’t need to. Lying on our backs, faces upturned and eyes squinting, we played The Cloud Game. Finding bunnies and pirate ships in the magnificent cotton balls that floated across that sea of indigo was better than any television show.
Memories like that show up in my mind with a soft haze around them, like they do in the movies. I look back on those times with such fondness that, sometimes, I find myself longing to be four years old again. It was so much simpler back then.
I wonder how I got here: this clean, well-maintained classroom with computers lining every wall. Thirteen other college students click-clacking on their keyboards, hoping this column will be able to boost their grade before the end of the semester.
Wow, the end of the semester. The end of my first year in college. I’m going to be a sophomore. But it was just last week that I received my acceptance letter! It was just yesterday that I jumped for joy at the thought of attending my dream school!
Lemonade has been replaced by coffee. Clouds have been replaced by computer screens. Blankets have been replaced by my friend’s dorm room futon because "I just need a break from studying for finals."
Her name was Sarah, and she was my first friend ever. We grew up in houses on either side of Elena Drive in a quiet neighborhood in Laguna Hills, CA. I hardly speak to Sarah anymore. The occasional obligatory email is all that remains of our almost two-decade-long friendship. My family has occupied two other houses since the one on Elena. And none of them ever felt as "homey" as that one.
Raindrops cling to my car’s windshield as I drive up the 5 freeway toward Chapman University. They reflect the surrounding landscape, holding the world within them. But the images are inverted—turned upside-down—such a different world than what it used to be.
We spread a blanket, whose pink flowers had faded from years of sun-exposure, but the emerald grass was so long and soft that we almost didn’t need to. Lying on our backs, faces upturned and eyes squinting, we played The Cloud Game. Finding bunnies and pirate ships in the magnificent cotton balls that floated across that sea of indigo was better than any television show.
Memories like that show up in my mind with a soft haze around them, like they do in the movies. I look back on those times with such fondness that, sometimes, I find myself longing to be four years old again. It was so much simpler back then.
I wonder how I got here: this clean, well-maintained classroom with computers lining every wall. Thirteen other college students click-clacking on their keyboards, hoping this column will be able to boost their grade before the end of the semester.
Wow, the end of the semester. The end of my first year in college. I’m going to be a sophomore. But it was just last week that I received my acceptance letter! It was just yesterday that I jumped for joy at the thought of attending my dream school!
Lemonade has been replaced by coffee. Clouds have been replaced by computer screens. Blankets have been replaced by my friend’s dorm room futon because "I just need a break from studying for finals."
Her name was Sarah, and she was my first friend ever. We grew up in houses on either side of Elena Drive in a quiet neighborhood in Laguna Hills, CA. I hardly speak to Sarah anymore. The occasional obligatory email is all that remains of our almost two-decade-long friendship. My family has occupied two other houses since the one on Elena. And none of them ever felt as "homey" as that one.
Raindrops cling to my car’s windshield as I drive up the 5 freeway toward Chapman University. They reflect the surrounding landscape, holding the world within them. But the images are inverted—turned upside-down—such a different world than what it used to be.
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