Again, I found myself hard-pressed to shatter the world with new discoveries today, but it wasn't a waste. Today I found a ginkgo leaf. A single golden uncrumpled leaf, spry as though it was October, lying on the icy pavement. No ginkgo trees grow in downtown campus, and in any case all the trees have been bare for months. It's tempting to make an analogy or write something pithy, but I won't.
I also explored the den of my residence. No one goes there, the place is deserted, and for whatever reason I had never been in it. My residence reminds me of my mental image of Ivy-league or prepschool housing during the fifties, and the den somehow hit me with a wave of nostalgia. There's an old, unused bar, record sleeves strewn about, a few old books, a foosball table, a musty smell. I feel sad and I don't know why. I feel for whatever reason that I was born into a matter-of-fact age.
Post-script.
