Space is often seen as the filler – the area that goes between Point A and Point B. In a world where we are often focused on the destination, or even on digital worlds far from the realm of physicality, having to connect with the terrestriality of the world around you may not just seem unnecessary – it may, actually, seem like an obstacle. Hills and long pathways act as time gobblers, eating up the time you could have spent at the destination.
However, diving deeper into the importance of place reveals a deeper purpose of what terrestriality can provide – a journey. These journeys may not inspire productivity, but they implore the participant to slow down and to take in the world around them, using terrestriality to hook themselves into the present.
This process, not what happens at the destination, is most often, the process that forms memories. The outside is unpredictable – walks will always lead to friction. The same task, over and over again – for example, working on a computer screen or scrolling through your phone will not create new memories most of the time. This creation of new pathways in the brain depends on this friction – the cold of a nighttime walk, a puddle you didn’t anticipate, the bright colors of a bird, the harsh glare of the sun.
So, in these next few entries, I explore how place connects to memory – specifically, the memories I have that are lodged deep with nostalgia – memories with friends of walks home, laughing on nights where I didn’t even think I’d be awake, cafes I love. I explore how the campus of Blacksburg and surrounding areas, and even areas near my home have led to past memories, how I keep those memories alive, and how I can explore new places and what it feels like to shape what I remember in the future.
Note: The total number of entries has been reduced to 19 due to quite a few entries being 180 words or 270 words and a wish not to go too far beyond the bounds of the scope. This project is not unfinished and lies solidly within the scope, likely towards the higher end of the spectrum in terms of word count.
A is for Ambling
3.05 Drawn and Repelled; Photograph and text; Wednesday, October 22
Midnight is an odd time to go exploring, but I still do. I walk over to Hitt Hall, an odd place to feel comfortable in, but the glass walls remind me of freshman year nostalgia. I stay away from nature, oddly enough – alone in the quiet dark, I don’t feel comfortable today making the walk to the Duck Pond. Though part of it is just from my own paranoia, some might agree that part of this stems from being a shorter woman – I always have to make sure I’m safe. (90)
Figure 1. The night as I leave my home, blanketing the sky but also creating an awareness-increasing darkness (Original Image, Riva Jain)
B is for Boba
Prompt 3.12 Five Senses; Photograph and text; Saturday, Oct. 25
I walk to the boba place near where I live off-campus. First, touch – the cool surface of my door, and the metal of my keys as I step outside, locking the door at 3 PM. Then, smell – the fresh air breezing by. Then, hearing – the cars whizzing across the road. As I get to the boba place, I see the bright, cool white light, and taste brown sugar boba – my favorite flavor. Today, these five senses make up a memory as I sit here, sipping boba with my friend Keene. (90)
Figure 2. Me drinking my boba with my friend, face hidden for privacy (Original Image, Riva Jain)
Entry 12: C is for Cold
Prompt 3.06 Draw a Map by Hand; Hand-Drawn Map and text; Saturday, Oct. 25
My friend Jenna recognizes this map when I show it to her, and hands it back with no requested improvements. It’s the walk from Newman Library to the Maroon Loop, a trek we’ve made too many times at night. It’s not an extraordinarily pretty walk, but it’s full of memories of us chattering after a particularly long study session, shivering in the cold as we walk back. I remember our talks as I trace out the lines – freshman year relationships, confusion over classes, trading what we understood from the notes. (90)
Figure 3. A hand-drawn map of the walk from the library to the Maroon Loop (Hand-Drawn Map, Riva Jain)
D is for Drillfield
Prompt 2.06 Talking Along the Drillfield; Photograph and text; Saturday, Sept. 27
It’s a late, quiet night – it must have been around 2:30 AM on this Saturday, September 27th. I’m with my friends Tim and Raina, who are coming from Burchard Hall. We’ve come out to the Drillfield to stargaze, and there are still groups of students out. We see groups of two or three people, seeming like they’re usually freshmen, hurrying back to their dorms. The night is cool and none of us have a jacket thick enough, so we’re all sniffling. We take some time walking back and forth along the Drillfield as we decide where to sit.
Every once in a while, we wander off the sidewalk when we see a lush patch of grass. Our feet wobble on the dirt as we make our way to each patch to inspect it and see if it’s a good place to finally rest. In this way, we choose our path, spending about twenty minutes just meandering. It sends me back to when we did this in our freshman year – it’s a familiar pattern.
We talk and catch up on our lives as we walk. It fills the cold and the silence. This sort of content conversation parallels the emotions the Drillfield brings up. It is a grounded place, not very active in its energy when we tend to be traversing it. Instead, it acts as a place to come back to, that makes this university feel like ours. This walk, though it involved activity, felt more like a rest emotionally. Since the talking was so aligned with how the Drillfield felt, it didn’t distract, instead complementing my observations. (270)
Figure 4. A blurry digital camera photo of my friend on the Drillfield, identity protected. It was a small moment that illustrated the contentment of the whole walk (Original Image, Riva Jain)
F is for Football
Prompt 2.08 Sporting Event; Photograph and text; Saturday, Oct. 4
It is October 4 and boiling hot. The sun is absolutely beating down on our backs as we trudge up the stairs to the second row of the stands. With my friends Aria and Tim, walking into the football game in the later parts of the morning, I can feel the sweat of everyone around me. The light pours into my eyes as we step out into the sun, and I can smell the greasy snacks and the salt of the pretzels. It’s more walking than we expected – we thought we wouldn’t have to climb the stairs up to the second part of the stands, but we came too late to get into the lower level.
We stop in the middle of our trek, pulling ourselves aside to a quiet spot in order to pull out a cookie and a candle (no fire, of course) to wish Aria a happy birthday. I can smell the cookie, and the soft wax of the candle feels oily against my hands as I press it in. We sing her happy birthday quietly, but the sound brings with it a deep sense of community.
I don’t go to football games often, especially not this year. However, the stands are familiar – I’ve been here enough times before that I know where to go. This lets me watch the people around me more, focusing on sight. I see people laughing with their friends, bumping into each other, and apologizing. At the same time, I see people tired out from the hot conditions and crowds, dragging their feet listlessly once we get to the stands. (270)
Figure 5. A photograph of Aria’s birthday cookie as we all “light it up” with our phone flashlights (Original Image, Riva Jain)
G is for Green
Prompt 2.31 Blacksburg Books; Photograph and text; Wednesday, Oct. 29
It’s quiet when I walk in. I’ve been meaning to come here for a bit, but never got around it it, so I’m glad to be here. I walked to this part of Main Street from my home, so it’s been around 45 minutes of smooth sidewalk. I left at 4:00 PM, so it’s about to be 4:45. I pick up a copy of Weyward by Emilia Hart. The green cover is so gorgeous I have to take it home. I’m excited to make memories with the book. (90)
Figure 6. The book I bought(Original Image, Riva Jain)
T is for Trail
Prompt 2.11 Huckleberry Trail; Photograph and text; Sunday, Oct. 5
On Sunday, October 5th, at around 12:30 PM, my friend Raina, my friend Tim, my friend Aria, and I get off of the Two-Town Trolley bus to start at the Christiansburg entrance to the Huckleberry trail. We cross creeks, dogs, and train tracks, but the trail stays stable under our feet – an easy walk, which is nice because we’re all a bit tired from the end of midterm season. We stop for a while as we walk past some ivy-covered walls, trying to look through the ivy vines and the fences the vines are covering in order to see what’s behind.
One of the most memorable views, however, is a while – about thirty minutes – into our walk, where we reach a covered bridge with train tracks under. The bridge itself is a welcome little area to rest, but the view encapsulates a duality between openness and closedness – the train tracks remind me of the open flat land of a parking lot, while the trees around close it off.
We head back, the clean air hitting our lungs, freshly energized. (180)
Figure 7. The railroad view that we stopped at for a good ten to fifteen minutes (Original Image, Riva Jain)
Entry 4: L is for Line
Prompt 2.16 Waiting in Line; Illustration and text; Tuesday, Oct. 7th
It’s 6:30 P.M on Tuesday, October 7th., and my friend Julia and I are in the Graduate Life Center, waiting in line to enter the Delta Epsilon Mu pre-med society’s philanthropy event. It’s a short line, but a slow moving one as they work to get the payment system set up properly. The atmosphere, however, is calm, relaxed, and playful. There’s not much rush, and everyone is just glad to be indoors as the rain pours down outside. We finally start walking – starting, then stopping, starting, then stopping. (90)
Figure 8. An image depicting the relaxed setup of the line – people were in groups rather than single-file, chatting as they set things up at the payment table (Original Figure, Riva Jain)
P is for Pond
Prompt 2.19 Duck Pond; Photograph and text; Tuesday, Oct. 7th
It’s night, like it was when my friends Raina, Tim, and I walked last time across the Drillfield. It’s around 9PM when we set out on Thursday, October 9, but by the time we get to duck pond, it’s 10PM. The Duck Pond is as serene as everyone says, especially at night, when there’s nobody but a few straggler groups here, whispering to each other like we are. We patter on down the sidewalk, eventually moving to the bank of the pond, where we can feel ferns touching our legs. Even this close to campus, taking a break from academics by being in nature feels like a release of anxieties and fears.
There is a small area where a streetlamp’s light pours through the trees, right on the edge of the pond and just barely in view of the road. We linger there for a little bit. Though we can’t see the Duck Pond as well from here, it’s the most magical part of our walk. We take a few pictures there, but the light doesn’t quite make it into the pictures taken from our phone cameras. To fix this, we recreate the light using our phone cameras, just for a short while as we don’t want to disturb the geese and ducks. We do this in other places, as well.
The pictures turn out wonderful, and we share them with each other as we walk back from the Duck Pond, reaching a place with better service. At the end of it all, I walk Tim and Raina to their dorms, and then walk back to my place, feeling calm. (270)
Figure 9. A picture with the streetlamp and the phone lights adding a glow (Original Image, Riva Jain)
S is for Sunset
Prompt 2.03 Overhead at Time of Day; Photograph and text; Saturday, Oct. 11
It’s a warm-ish night with chill starting to come in. I’m at home in Northern Virginia as I set out on my walk down the side of the highway near our house around 7:00 PM. I am alone. Twenty minutes in, I look up. The sun is starting to set, with the colors refracting off, perhaps in the troposphere, but possibly higher.
A mix of altocumulus and cirrus clouds forms a wispy blanket that curves across the sky. I wonder where the wind lightly hitting my back and shoulders begins – though all wind is formed by the heat changes between the land and the air from what I know, how has this wind traveled? The clouds are likely in the troposphere. It’s a fair weather evening – we’ve had a lot of those recently, but my face is still comfortably cool as I finish my walk.
The sky fades to a crayon cerulean blue as I turn towards home, and hits a deep, velvety shade of navy by the time I finally loop back to where I started – the house. (180)
Figure 10. A picture with clouds and a sunset adding a glow (Original Image, Riva Jain)
R is for Refrigerator
Prompt 2.12 Indoor Walk; Photograph and text; Monday, Oct. 12
It’s 10:07 PM as I walk to my fridge alone to begin dinner. I’m starving, so the walk feels longer than maybe it should – it’s one of the shortest walks I make in the day. I count the steps as the ground under my feet changes from lush carpet to hard wood. It’s thirteen steps, medium size, from the head of my bed to the door, and past that, another twenty steps, same size, to the fridge as I weave around the island and pull out the pasta sauce. (90)
Figure 11. A map of the walk to the fridge, with striking details and obstacles labeled. (Original Illustration, Riva Jain)
M is for Memorial
Prompt 2.27 4/16 Memorial; Photograph and text; Tuesday, Oct. 13
I stop by the April 16 memorial as I walk across the Drillfield alone to class at 11:00 AM. It’s interesting how life goes on around it. The choice to have this memorial exist in the heart of campus has given it a place of importance, but has also made it a place that, by design, isn’t sacred and quiet, but is integrated into our daily lives. Memorials in DC, near where I live, have their own space, so when it comes to war memorials, people are sometimes quiet and contemplative while visiting. However, here, people pass the memorial not just to remember the deceased, but also as they take shortcuts to class. Couples sit on the stone bench nearby, one of them with a sandwich. The memorial, to me, is associated with respect and remembrance for those we’ve lost, but also, simply, the feeling of campus as a whole with its bustle.
This is interesting, and in my opinion, a better way to remember these students than by shoving the memorial off into a corner of campus that would rarely be visited, but remain quiet. It’s better to remember these students in our everyday lives as what they were, people, not martyrs, and I think that often gets lost when remembering people. It also, however, makes it hard to take action, as you remember the deceased as “other”, not as someone like you. The students who passed in the tragedy were just students like us, which makes it all the more tragic. By letting them be remembered in the heart of campus, we can celebrate them as well. (270)
Figure 12. A visual illustration of the memorial and the people walking around it. Any inaccuracy or messiness is due to the creator’s own artistic ability and is not intended as a dismissal of the memorial. (Original Illustration, Riva Jain)
H is for Halwa
Prompt 2.34 Directions for a First-year Student; Photograph and text; Thursday, Oct. 15
Dear Future Hokie, you may have heard from your friends going to other colleges that Blacksburg is “in the middle of nowhere” and there’s “nothing to do”. Don’t listen to them. Blacksburg has some of the most wonderful people, things, and most of all, places.
When you get here, just walk around campus. Walk under all of the archways and tunnels you can find, whether it’s the long one under Burruss, the gorgeous Eggleston Hall corner, on the arch near Smyth with the lecture hall directly attached.
You’ll be going to Squires a lot, and if you aren’t, you should. They have events there every other week or more. Don’t skip out on them or think they’re uncool. That’s how I met so many of my friends as a freshman.
Also, if you check out one thing, make sure to check out the cafes. Go to Halwa Bakery on Main Street. Though it’s not on campus, you’ll get to feel the fall vibes at Tech like no other.
You’re going to love it here. It’s the most beautiful place. (180)
Figure 13. A lemon bar from Halwa Bakery and Cafe, one of my favorite treats from one of my favorite places (Original Image, Riva Jain)
N is for Nighttime
Prompt 3.14 Star Gazing; Photograph and text; Saturday, Oct. 17
It’s dark as my friends Jenna, Austin, and I set out in my car at 11:30 PM to drive to a small park nearby. It’s beautiful, but I’m glad I’m with them as we step out – there’s not much light. We walk slow, necks craned back. You can’t see the outlines of everything against each other, so the world looks like a big expanse of black, only the stars and moon visible. Even in the dark, I’m calm, not able to see the business of the world around me. (90)
Figure 14. My friend in the car before we got out to look at the stars and it got too dark to take pictures, identity censored for privacy (Original Image, Riva Jain)
V is for Virginia
3.08 Bird Watching Walk; Photograph and text; Sunday, Oct. 18
The cardinal is the Virginia state bird. I’ve loved them since I was little, but didn’t think I’d see one as beautiful as this when I stepped outside with my copy of The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Birds, one that I actually bought last year, and had sitting, handy. Going outside to look for birds, I stood still and looked up for the first time in a while. Today, I noticed the patterns of shadow the sunlight made as I scanned the outlines of leaves for birds. (90)
Figure 15. The beautiful Northern Cardinal I saw – according to my field guide, it’s also known as the Virginia redbird (Original Image, Riva Jain)
O is for Orange
Prompt 3.11 Smellscape Mapping; Annotated Map and text; Tuesday, Oct. 20
This time, I wander the Orange Loop. Today, it feels like there might be rain on the horizon. I can smell it throughout my walk. As I near Hitt Hall, I can smell a variety of different foods, the Rambutan noodles, and Solarex dishes all changing in intensity as I walk along the building. As I move towards the cars in the parking lot in the back, I can detect the faint smell of gasoline, and a little bit of a waste smell hidden away as I pass some trash. (90)
Figure 16. The circle that I made, by the sides of New Classroom Building and Hitt Hall (Annotated Map, Google Maps and Riva Jain)
W is for Wheel
Prompt 3.21 Design Your Own Walking Ritual; Annotated Map and text; Sunday, Oct 26
For this prompt, I don’t go outside, instead sitting at my desk to plan out how to create a walk that I can ritualize. In rituals, I love the idea of a wheel, and I think it will be both practical and memorable. I decide to make it a weekend walk, hitting the Drillfield and looping back around to my house. The Drillfield is a place I have good previous memories of, but don’t see as much of as I’d like to, and I think this ritual will change that. (90)
Figure 17. The approximate loop I plan to make after I get onto campus (Annotated Map, Google Maps and Riva Jain)
J is for Jamba
Prompt 3.27 Epic Walking Story; Photograph and text; Monday, October 27
Off we trek, my friend Jules and I, to get Jamba Juice from Turners, in the last throes of the morning at 11 AM. It’s a harrowing journey – first, we must wait at the crossing of death as cars speed by, taking their chance before the flood of pedestrians begins. We join this crowd’s pilgrimage, crossing several streets before we reach turners, paying with what may be the last of our gold coins for an overpriced ambrosia-like juice. I tell this story to Jules as I write it. She laughs. (90)
Figure 18. The Jamba Juice reward my friend and I had trekked so far to get (Original Image, Riva Jain)
Q is for Quick
Prompt 2.32 Shortest Walk; Photograph and text; Tuesday, Oct. 28
Mirror full of fog. Turn on the vent. Turn off the light. Step out of restroom. Door closes behind me. Fumble with room light. It is dark now. Just hit 7 PM. Hair is still damp. Walk to blow dryer. Take towel off my hair. Back to the restroom. Hang up the towel. Back to the blow dryer. Dry hair a little. Short bursts, not loud. Throw clothes in hamper. Pull out six bottles. Do overblown skincare routine. I’m still breaking out. Pad over to bed. Now I can relax. (90)
Figure 19. My final destination – the bed. Unfortunately, a little messy at the time of picture. (Original Image, Riva Jain)