As I sat upon the frozen park bench underneath a steadily graying sky, sipping smoldering hot black tea, I watched the gathering students, holding their coats tightly around their bodies. I made my way to Williams Hall, the infamous place where Gabriel Gudding’s English 100 class rekindles each Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. As I walked I could see braches of the red oaks swaying in the wind that was cold enough to freeze one’s bones. I saw a young couple two blond-haired figures whispering softly in each other’ ears. I could see the ever growing pile of crunchy chlorophyll depleted amber leaves beneath my muddy gray shoes. As I continued my journey towards class I saw a walnut tree. This stirred a memory from the beginning of the semester when each member of Gabe’s class, still novices at the inner workings of college, posed before a camera after Gabe’s infamous cry of “Smile like you’re under a walnut tree.” I then saw a group of dying flowers loose the last of their soft petals in the frigid wind that swept over them like an angry ghost. I reached the front doors and appeared in the hallway where many of my classmates were already propped against the aging walls of the building. I watched as the conversation developed including every imaginable topic. Our most recent reading is always brought into account. In this hallway I saw the turning cogs and spinning wheels of each person’s mind as they tried to make sense of each author’s words. I witnessed their eventful discoveries, their realizations, and processes of human nature. I have seen their wonder and their wholesome confusion. I have seen the weeks fly and with it the understanding of many finally answered queries yet consequently the developing of even more challenging questions. I see my classmates; future teachers, and scholars. I see Gabe appear in our hallway always happy to see us already waiting. I watched my peers as they shuffled through the door, the gateway to the unknown.
~Michele Amato
