This space for rent.

Last winter break I stayed briefly an old high school friend at Northampton University, England. It was a haphazard decision, following certain changes in lodging plans when I had already booked my flight to London intending to visit there. He, easygoing and welcoming, offered opened up his place to me for as long as I needed. I happily accepted his offer.’But what are you going to do la? There’s nothing around here. There’s the Stonehenge in the next town if you want, but besides that got nothing for you to do.’ He said, and I paraphrase. To make matters worse, he had several exams lined up for him in the coming weeks following my visit.

It turned out to be one of the most pleasant visits, to my memory. For all of the bus rides to and fro I leaned my head against the window, taking in the dreary, winter-worn English countryside while my mind mused merrily. For the next two days I spent cooking and eating with his housemates, walking with him through campus to the computer lab, hacking away at the VHP site design while he worked at his circuits and electronics. All so wonderfully mundane.

This winter break, working on campus and living, for the most part, with one of my more social schoolmates has taught me how rare it can be that someone would be happy to coexist with you. Two summers ago God gave me one such friend. If I were to sit here, and if you were to lie there; if I were to read, and if you were to knit; if the air weighed heavy with silence’s gold, perchance laced with gabble’s silver — it would be alright. Yea, delight.