mtran's blog

The moment I walk out of Rhoads, the cold replaces the warm. The wind blows right into my face, ruffles my hair and freezes my hand. Morning chill seems to wake me up stronger than coffee can. Putting my hands in the pockets, I walk around trying to find comfort in the cold.

Leaves fall. The wind seems a bit cruel and bitter. It takes away an uncountable number of leaves from a tree. Trees turn out to be even more vulnerable to the wind than I am. I look down to see the grass now covered with shades of autumn. Yellow, brown and red coat the green lawn with a sense of sadness. And I look up to realize a tree with two distinctively separated halves: one with and another without leaves. The direction of the wind seems to have left behind some trace of favoritism. The half facing Rhoads gets the luck and is still covered with leaves. The other half has been robbed completely, revealing thin bare branches of lines and curves. Yet, these branches do not need leaves to know they are still beautiful...

I wonder if the tree misses the leaves, if it misses the green, if it misses Spring… But I also know that the other leaves will soon fall away and after winter comes spring again and the tree will soon get a new coat. Seasons come in cycle while I grow up each day. I cannot be gone like those leaves while there is too much to see and too much to learn. 

In class on Tuesday, we talked about long-term awareness and short-term decision, with the case of having to use cars when we are being late, knowing that they pollute the environment. Yet many of our decisions depend largely on their specific situations and giving up good intentions is sometimes unavoidable. Carson was true to say "man can hardly even recognize the devils of his own creation." But even when we do recognize them, we have all become too dependent and used to the convenience of modernity to change. Charlene also confirmed it with a claim "the assumption of modernity, the faith in technological "progress" and rapacious industrialism, along with the miltarism necessary to support it, have left us very lost indeed."

However, does it mean that we can never change our habits? I suppose we all are taught that changes evolve from the smallest and simplest action every individual person can take. And gradually, it works all the way up to become a new habit. The essential factors are determination and patience. The greatest hindrance are excuses for procrastination. Personally, I think a good way to start a new habit is to consider it a must or a normal instead of an alternative. If you are late now, use your car this time just as an exception. Instead of using alternatives (such as bike/public transportation) only when you can, tell yourself to use cars when you have to, only as a last resort. What about you? What do think makes changes possible?

It is amazing how the use of rocks dates back to the origin of human history and is still applied nowadays. In history I have learnt about the many durable evidences of tools and buildings made of rocks and stones. It is not surprising that such an abundant, indigenous, long-lasting and useful material is still used in this time, especially with human expanding knowledge that can be applied to use specific type of rock for specific purpose of construction. However, what struck me is amount of work that makes a stone building and its beauty. In order to build up the castle-like Rhoads where I am, people had to excavate an area to form a quarry, rocks were then delivered to the construction site from the quarry and then cut and grinded to become perfect rectangular blocks that can be stacked into straight walls. Laying rocks is also an art as each pattern has its own characteristic. It create individuality for the building itself.

I used to think of nature as layers of randomness. Without the interference of human, trees grow up wherever conditions allow, weeds cover the area… But is randomness a pattern? If one lays rocks of different shapes on a wall or in a unexpected and undersigned pattern, the wall might turn out not ugly at all. Indeed, many buildings nowadays apply this as a  “random pattern”. And if language can be used to place an order onto the natural environment, then yes, randomness can be a pattern.

I have been here since I was young, and short. The world I have been living in is a small and limited land. I grow up higher and higher just to see the surrounding with all its elements stay (almost) the same. Characteristics of shapes, colors, positions, etc. make no difference: they have all been there for too long and become too familiar that there is no reason for them to have a name. We are always in sight with each other I never miss or forget. However un-diverse and familiar this world is to me, it is still mysterious. Questions obsess me whether anything lies underneath the surface of water over there, whether I and all the tall plants that look exactly like me are of the same kind and so on. I long for an answer. I long for a better understanding of this world. The inability to move is a hardship. Whether it rains or shines, cold or hot, I am standing here observing and confusing myself. There are strangers who come to my world, stay for a while then leave me, even more puzzled, behind. There are fast-moving animals that keep running around and on my body, as if showing off their superior ability and teasing my helpless self. Giant as I am to many other beings, I feel incompetent to the world.

Yesterday was Moon Cake day (or Mid Autumn festival). Vietnam and China were the first countries to celebrate this day, on which people can see the full moon from the earth. Nowadays many other Asian countries also celebrate this festival. It is a day for moon cake, green tea and lanterns.

I visited the longue behind Rhoads South in the evening, after coming back from Haffner’s Mid Autumn festival, with a cup of hot tea and a piece of moon cake (grilled moon cake with lotus seed paste and salted egg yolk – my favourite!). The night was cold and I was lucky to have the cup of tea as a companion. I like the feeling when I hold the cup, take a sip and let the flow of warmth travel inside my body, in contrast with the cold outside. Thanks to the tea I could have been able to stand the night’s cold.

Today, I returned to my site with a friend. As we were sitting on the lounge behind Rhoads South, looking at the field without a single person, she told how she dislikes being in an open space on her own. She mentioned the feeling of loneliness as she stands there in the middle a huge grass lawn, surrounded by nothing but the air and sounds of nature, which surprised me. It seemed to me that an empty open space made her insecure and feared. However much I try to understand the logic behind her feelings, I cannot imagine myself in such condition. I am not brave enough to walk in a strange wood alone; however, when it comes to a place familiar or known-as-safe to me, I enjoy being in an open space. It is relaxing to me when I am able to cast a look faraway and up high above, to realize the green field so big and the blue sky so high. I attribute personality to our difference. While I tend to enjoy my own personal space, my friend cannot stay without an accompany. While I am looking forward to being on my own, my friend feels insecure when she is alone. As such, even though both of us love to be outside in nature, criterias defining our favorite places differ.

Now as I think of my “Thoreauvian walk”, it was nothing like the real walk that Thoreau refers to in his essay. Actually I find it impossible for me to walk like Thoreau, to leave behind all social affairs, to say goodbye to my family and just go on for an aimless walk. Perhaps it is because we are born into a life of busyness. Since we were young we have been learning by imitating other people: we learn how to walk, how to talk or to sing all by simulating adults. It is not surprising that we also learn from them the way people keep themselves busy. We hardly ever slow the pace of life to the level of sauntering. Even when I walk just to relax, I cannot keep my mind from thinking (about the past or the future or just anything in my life). No, perhaps it is just me who has not been able to truly immerse my soul in nature, to forget everything else but the surrounding scenery. As I read about the art of sauntering, I read this quotes from John Burroughs: “To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life. ” I admire the way John admires and treasures elements of nature. It feels as if John and Thoreau can really feel and live the way nature lives and exists. When we are able to “find the universal enough” or “find the air and the water exhilarating” – we become true saunterers.

Hi, my name is Minh and I am from Vietnam.

My ranking of the places where I felt happy seems to reflect very well of my personality. I feel happy to be immersed in nature and to enjoy my own space. I have been looking for myself a personal space to spend a bit of everyday reflecting on myself or just relaxing. That is why the Morris Woods appears as a wonderful place for me. As I seat there, surrounded by tall green trees and the sounds of birds chirping, I feel as peaceful and happy as if it was home. The Woods is also quite distanced from the campus center, therefore, apart from the sounds of nature, it is quiet. As such, it is also an ideal place of concentration for me.

It was hard for me decide the positions of the remaining places as the glass staircase in Dalton, the English House and the lab in Park Science are the same to me. They all are separated from nature but have a nice view to the greens. I also feel happy at the parking lot but somehow do not really like to be distracted by the cars and people moving in and out of the lot.

So here is my ranking: