I'm spending my summer at school, interning at the Utica refugee center. It's been quiet—much quieter than I'm accustomed to after several consecutive summers adventuring. I admit, there are some days where I want to scream—what was I thinking, staying at school? I should know by now that I can't bear to stay in spaces like this, every inch saturated with memories of people that aren't here anymore.
But there are other days where I can't help but look around and marvel at how lucky I am to be here in the summer. I've mentioned before that during the school year, Hamilton feels like it's perpetually trapped in winter. Bitter winds and snow storms are a way of life here. Even in the winter though, the campus is gorgeous. But most of us are too preoccupied with papers and activities and exams and endless work to even notice.