Bike route from my new town, Wollbach, to BFA

We’ve become so used to looking down at the earth from above.  At the spiny knuckles of mountains or shrew blue oceans, we look from plane windows at places we’ll never land.  The view from European flights is patchy, agricultural collages far more intricate than those in our Midwest.

It’s this green mosiac where I found online, through the miracle of Google Maps, directions from my new apartment to my new school.  Magic.  And then, Mary Poppins -style, I’m imagining bike rides through lush fields on my way to school.  Fields that are never damp or snowy (which they will be) and rides never rushed or taken for granted.

It must be finals week at Ingraham. 

I feel like a senior who’s been accepted into college, and spends time allotted for paper-writing poring over glossy promotional literature.  Pictures of students playing football in the sun.  Eating organic salad in bright cafeterias.  Studying dusty-sunlit libraries.  It’s all so lovely from the air.

And I’m excited to be excited, but there’s more to do.  Life doesn’t pause while I’m daydreaming.  If you think to pray for graduates in the next few weeks, pray also for me, mired in the details of endings, seeking to be fully present in these days before the adventures ahead.


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