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.