Waiting

Today I had a day of entirely new experiences for me. I went to the homecoming parade and game with some pretty big football fans. This meant we got to the game about three and a half hours early and spent two of those outside the stadium waiting to get in. While we were there I wrote this.


Music with a deep base has begun, it's almost time. The base punctuates the conversations and the calls to friends made by the multitude of people here. From far away they look like an unformed mob, but here in the midst of them rough lines begin to from. People are waiting patiently, this is as much part of the day for them as any other event.

The sun is hidden by the massive facade, which towers over the waiters. It is a wall of bricks - red and black - punctuated at each level by a line of sandy concrete. It is outlined by the clear blue sky, a crisp delineation.

More people arrive with every minute, this concrete expanse is filling up. There are really only three colors here  orange, black, and the shades of blue in everybody's jeans. The people stand in groups, but the groups periodically blend together or move apart. They all make up one living organism.

If I look beyond the crowds and the cheers, the college buildings are visible. Quiet now, they stand peacefully waiting for the end of the weekend when they will be put to use again. Made of the same red brick and sandy concrete as the stadium, they seem hardly touched by the festivities a mere stone's throw away. No one throngs around their door, anxiously waiting to enter as they hibernate through the weekend. They are older than the stadium too - they look on as the elderly look on the young at a party. They have many memories, but now they are content to sit back quietly and watch others create new memories.



-Kat