Pleasant Summer
I love running at night. I just really, truly love running at night. It doesn't matter how fast I run, I don't worry about sun or cars. I'm simply running, feeling attached to and content with nature. Even the roads I've run a hundred times see mysterious, new and exciting. All the while, there's just a hint of danger behind ever shadow, but I run by them and everything turn out alright. Whatever your athletic skill or interest, I highly recommend it.
I also adore reading in my attic during thunderstorms. While nature beats down on the world outside, I lie curled in my attic, protected by my walls and windows. It makes me feel so warm, safe and fortunate. Fortunate to have a room to call my own, fortunate to have books to tell me of anything I want and fortunate to be able to spend my time as I want to, in this case, curled and reading in my attic.
I love the feel of history beneath my fingertips. Even the most mundane tasks of sorting or labeling still fascinate me, as I know I'm promoting something I love so much. I'm promoting historical research and discovery for future generations. Even if someone never sees one of the documents again, at least I did. I saw corn used as the major draw to a Navy reunion in Norfolk, VA in 1926, I saw the regulations of the scrap wood pile, the hospital slip of the man discharged after contracting syphilis and the incredible control of the media by the army during the nuclear bomb test at Bikini Atoll.
I love wandering the streets of Belmont, Cambridge and Boston, exploring the world and opportunities at hand, trying to find a perfect niche.
But even if I don't find it, even if after all the volunteering I've done hither and yon, I don't find a field or subject I want to dedicate my life to, that's alright. Because I have time and I won't be able to live like this ever again. At least for this summer, I'm just enjoying the journey. Peaceful times.
I also adore reading in my attic during thunderstorms. While nature beats down on the world outside, I lie curled in my attic, protected by my walls and windows. It makes me feel so warm, safe and fortunate. Fortunate to have a room to call my own, fortunate to have books to tell me of anything I want and fortunate to be able to spend my time as I want to, in this case, curled and reading in my attic.
I love the feel of history beneath my fingertips. Even the most mundane tasks of sorting or labeling still fascinate me, as I know I'm promoting something I love so much. I'm promoting historical research and discovery for future generations. Even if someone never sees one of the documents again, at least I did. I saw corn used as the major draw to a Navy reunion in Norfolk, VA in 1926, I saw the regulations of the scrap wood pile, the hospital slip of the man discharged after contracting syphilis and the incredible control of the media by the army during the nuclear bomb test at Bikini Atoll.
I love wandering the streets of Belmont, Cambridge and Boston, exploring the world and opportunities at hand, trying to find a perfect niche.
But even if I don't find it, even if after all the volunteering I've done hither and yon, I don't find a field or subject I want to dedicate my life to, that's alright. Because I have time and I won't be able to live like this ever again. At least for this summer, I'm just enjoying the journey. Peaceful times.