V is for Volleyball

Prompt 2.08 Sporting Event; Photograph and Text

Figure 01. Sand court near the Owen’s lot (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The volleyball court is never truly empty, even when no one is playing. The sand carries the memory of movement in scuffs and shallow potholes. The net flows with every gust, as if still reacting to the last serve. I catch soundless shouts and echoing slaps. I remember the first week of college during move in week. No classes, no worries, no stress. It’s a different kind of gravity here where people jump off the ground for a second, only for the sand to pull them back down to reality.

B for Bench

Prompt 2.05 Texture Archive; Photograph and Text

Figure 02. Rain-soaked bench under streetlamp glow at around 1:00 am in front of Squires (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Making the image black and white is possibly the best way to communicate this entry, truth be told. The bench, all alone in the rain. During the day it’s just another part of the landscape, an outdoor furniture set aside for small stops and simple exchanges. In the night, it’s splashed by the harsh light of the streetlamps, its wet wooden slats and cold iron arms are given a kind of shine. Water pools in the grooves like clutches of suppressed breath, then flows silently away. Clearly, no one is sitting, but the bench appears to be taken by the traces of those who used to sit there. The students waiting for a ride, friends relaxing in the shade, a person tired after a long walk. The bricks appear as shattered glass at night , the walkway next to it capturing the lamplight in long, fractured brushstrokes. All the reflections seem almost deliberate, drawn by the unpredictable rain patterns of a storm. The wind is carrying the scent of damp mulch and wet pavement, an odor that suggests stagnation and aftermath.

D for Drillfield

Prompt 2.06 Talking Along the Drillfield; Photograph and Text

Figure 03. Drillfield mid-day (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The Drillfield always feels like a pause in the middle of a sentence. The empty space in between the residential housing and the academic buildings. No matter which way you enter, the space stretches out before you like an ellipsis, urging you to fill in the blank. Last year, my first walk across it felt endless with my backpack digging into my shoulders while everyone’s voices rose and fell everywhere around me. No matter where you looked, it was always full of people holding something, whether it’s conversations, backpacks, food from the dining halls after a class. I had convinced myself everyone was watching, being the self conscious introvert that I am, measuring the clumsy rhythm of my steps. They weren’t, of course. Rather, they were too busy tracing their own silent diagonals through the grass. Now, when I stand at the edge, I can almost see those earlier versions of myself flickering in and out: one sprinting to make class, another lost in headphones, one enjoying Gobblerfest or other events. The Drillfield collects all of them, holding them in invisible layers that thicken with each passing semester with each and every student that walks across it. Sometimes, when the light is low and less people are around, it’s easier to imagine those layers overlapping, and the people walking now brush shoulders with people from past times. Oddly enough, the more I thought about it, you kinda carried your own ghost across the grass, and for a moment, I had a realization that the field doesn’t just belong to you. It belongs to every step that’s ever crossed it.

L for Light post

2.03 Sounds Archive; Photograph and Text

Figure 04. A couple walking home in the rain downtown around 11pm (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The rain floats as much as it falls, thin strands drawn by the streetlights’ glow. Every drop of it reflects light before getting lost in the street, devoured by reflections that pursue one another in the brick pavement. In front of them, a couple walked, one umbrella bent over them. The noise of their feet is quiet and soft, the drops of water that gather around their shoes covering the sound. The lamplight shines on either side of their shoulders, making them seem like extensions of the night itself, half-there, half-mirror. The light turns green, waves of green and red scatters in puddles before disappearing into the quiet. The baskets droop, dripping with rain, petals dulled but bright in the damp air. I stay still for an instant, seeing how the light makes all this happen, makes everything have this beat, this sense that downtown breathes differently when it’s nighttime. There’s something peaceful about it, something intimate, delicate, and ephemeral. The sort of moment that can’t be fabricated or searched for, only observed before it dissolves into the next thought.

F for Flower

Prompt 3.12 Five Senses; Photograph and Text

Figure 05. A bee hovering near small white flowers at dusk (Original photograph, Bradley J)

In the noisy area in front of Dietrick Hall, a small hum between the petals adds to the students talking. The sweater weather of Fall where it’s cold enough to wear a sweatshirt but still warm enough with enough sun and luckily, warm enough for the bee. The setting sun lets small bits of yellow pierce through the leaves while the bee pollinates. Watching the bee work only brings me joy remembering the sweet taste of honey it produces. From this viewpoint, the world seems so small yet so peaceful.

C for Costume

Prompt 3.07 Observational Portrait; Photograph and Text

Figure 06: A friend wearing her Halloween costume, becoming a portrait of the moment (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The costume, a dark angel, almost takes on an otherworldly quality from the harsh light from the lamp behind. The dark wings, a soft texture with a sharp contrast to the bright stone behind her on the right and the dark night on the left. The light crowns her with a bright halo, turning the costume of what was a simple outfit into something more dreamlike. She sits quietly, hands folded, paused and posed for the camera. The backdrop says less about being subtle and brings the costume to life.

E for Empty

Prompt 2.18 A Wish for Something to Be Different

Figure 07: A barren tree wishing to be full of color again (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The branches reach out quietly, like hands, thin and waiting. Scattered leaves cling to the branches, flowing back and forth in the wind. The ground below, covered in what once was a beautiful red and orange scene. Now, it looks like everything was paused. The sky gray, the tree barren, the space between trees seeming to grow making each tree lonely. Just one of those days of the Fall where even the emptiness of leaves on a tree seemed full for a breath, holding what’s gone and what’s still falling.

T for Trail

Figure 08: The walk back from the academic side to Duck Pond overflow lot (Original Photograph, Bradley J)

The walk back to Duckpond Overflow Lot is a long one, but at the same time, it’s only a slight 10 minutes from car to class. However, within those 10 minutes are sometimes the best thought-provoking moments with nothing to do but walk and think. Each bend on the trail is sometimes a new train of thought, whether it be about the sports that I played as I pass the golfers swinging their clubs or reminders of my own dog when I see the ducks swimming in the mini ponds.

A for Archway

Prompt 3.05 Drawn and Repelled; Photograph and Text

Figure 09. The archway creates a push–pull feeling, drawing me into its shade while repelling me into the light that bursts on the other side. (Original photograph, Bradley J)

Passing through the arch is like crossing a portal every single time, even when I am simply on my way to class. The stone chills the air within its boundary, holding shade and resonating the footsteps within. Outside, everything lights up suddenly with bright trees covered with the light of the afternoon, and the sidewalk curves toward open grass. A person wanders along beside the doorway, unaffected by the juxtaposition. The world appears to be set up from this vantage point, an unwitting lens carved out of stone and time.

I for Intrigue

3.05 Drawn and Repelled; Photograph and Text

Figure 10. A couple sharing a moment together atop War Memorial (Original photograph, Bradley J)

The sky is filled with some sort of in-between light, soft and amber with thought of leaving as the sun goes down.  On the ledge of the war memorial chapel, a couple sits in the warm evening watching as the world goes by around them. Their feet suspended, nothing below their feet alluding to the fact that there’s nothing that disturbs their moment together. One points at something unknown, trying to direct the other’s attention. The motion, suspended between curiosity and storytelling. What was it? Who knows but those two.