Description Activity

At night in front of the Campus Center

   

     In the campus center parking lot, snow falls all around.  The snowflakes, great fat ones (the kind that if you looked closely you could see the intricately designed pattern in its structure) fall lazily to the ground, like a teenager trying to get up from bed on a Saturday morning.  The snowflakes gather with their kin on the ground. Much of the snow has not been disturbed yet. With only a few indents in the snow from the four tires of some vehicle, there is a seemingly even coat across the ground.  It looks too perfect even to be random.  I would not be surprised if a laser’s light shone unobstructed into the trees across the lot.  The brightness of the snow contrasts starkly with the dark sky.  It is the kind of blackness you see when you look straight down a very long pipe.  While staring you start to lose the sense of how far you are staring.  You know you are staring through hundreds of miles, but at the same time you feel as it might just be a large flat black surface just in front of you.  This error in my perception is due to the streetlamps that shine in the corner of my eyes, blinding me from seeing any faint lights in the steady blackness.  The snow seems to form dozens of concentric circles around each light.  A trick of the eye makes it look as though the snowflakes’ paths actually bend away from some two foot bubble around the slightly orange tinted white light.  The steady pattern of the unhurried snowflakes curving around the indiscernible light is mesmerizing.  Especially with the bare popular tree next to the campus center illuminated.  Its barren branches curve in unison skywards towards the void-less sky in a manner akin to a crowd at an emotionally powerful Christian concert.