For In This World I'm Bound To Travel
I fall back into the rhythm of Centre like a child-spinning, arms outstretched, dizzy with laughter-falls back into the sun. Campus is less green than last year, the swing a little shorter, the roads a little busier. But the everyday ins & outs are the same, from the overwhelming and nigh-impossible homework load to the students’ odd obsession with the ice cream machine.
Wyoming-mountainous, awe-inspiring, vast desert landscape and mountain lakes as clear and sparkling as diamonds and twice as precious-is home, and in some ways it always will be. But I am coming to realise that Kentucky, as foreign it still occasionally may seem; and this place in particular, this place of newspapers and fraternities and fountains filled with glass sculptures, is home as well.