Wood Between the Worlds

As I sit for a moment on a hot and lazy afternoon, three days before classes start, my mind keeps returning to a particular moment in C. S. Lewis's Tales of Narnia and like Polly, I feel as if I am sprawled on the turf in the Wood Between The Worlds. Like the wood dimpled with pools and inhabited only by two children and a munching guinea pig, it is quiet here on campus and while I keep running into people that I have known, the mixed environment of relaxation and expectation makes the meeting nearly unfamiliar, almost timeless. And it is green here-- New England in the high time of summer, perhaps a little parched as it is August, but brilliant if not dazzling, sunlight drifting through leaves and twigs dancing in the merry little breezes, grass soft and inviting. Most importantly, as I am in such a place of stillness, it is a growing place: of patience, of trust, of cheerfulness, and of enthusiasm for a new experience just around the corner.

But I am here by way of something more enchanting than magic.

The Smell of Purple

My family has long been amused by my sensitive nose and equally inquisitive mind, almost as if it is a laughing matter to be endowed with the extremities of both. But how else is one to manage life if one is not allowed to follow one's nose? Where else would one find adventure than in a brownish scent, dank and dark and dangerous, or in the bliss of a rosy waltz, perhaps too filled with the bubbles of perfume that dissipate all too soon into the atmosphere. Even so, today as my busy walk was interupted by a tickle of air wild with the scent of ripe grapes I was reminded that one particular hue is mine to sniff out with all dedication, regardless of the so-called thrill of a varied experience: a narrow and confusing mottly of mixtures to begin with, but a royal and Heavenly path full of promise and fine taste and delight, edged with more than just a hint of beauty. Indeed, in is a Heavenly fragrance, deep and bursting with mystery, sweet as a wild grape.