View - Digital DU

It's fall and you just arrived at the mountain top.Breathless, but blissful, you survey the scenearound you; snow-covered peaks, the brillianceof the sun as it begins to descend, and besideyou an aspen leaf radiantly contemplates itsseparation from the other leaves still attached tothe tree; only then free to join the windcurrents and glide to the valley below.Then, it dawns on you that perhaps you and theaspen leaf are very much alike, because justas the aspen disconnects itself so have you nowuntied those umbilical cords and are radiantlychanging seasons. Perhaps these were yourthoughts as you walked back down themountainside to rejoin the others who had justarrived at Freshman Camp.Maybe you remember other things: the speakers,an ecologist and liberal moralist preaching atyou or the Congresswoman from somewhere,the full-length movie shown on a beautiful, " I'drather be outside" morning, the discussiongroups lead by persistent but loyal facultymembers and finally, the rock and soul groupsobliterating the silence of the mountain nights.But, this wasn't Freshman Camp, either. RatherFreshman Camp was the continuum betweenthese events, not the schedule itself. It was thefrisbee-throwing and the kite flying and the hikesand the horseback riding. It was guitar-playingfrom the trees and the feather covered hallways.Most of all it was like an emerging bubble,which, like an aspen leaf, is destined either tofloat freely or remain ... half formed.214