Working at Colby having gone to Colby sometimes causes the old Yogi Berra saying to hit you between the eyes: deja vu all over again.
Got a good deja vu dose yesterday. Beautiful day on Mayflower Hill. Sunny, a little breezy, temp hitting 60. Most of the snow gone, except for the piles outside the field house, the end of the Foss Parking lot. I decided I'd had enough of staring at the screen, walked up the hill toward Miller. And there they were, like something out of a promotional video about college. Students reclining on the terraced slope in front of the library steps. Students tossing Frisbees. Students sitting on benches with books. Students playing guitar. One class gathered outside.
it could have been ... 1978 (but for the lack of bad 70s haircuts). Charlie Bassett holding forth on the lawn. Everybody kicking back, soaking in the first rays of spring sun. Lots of contented smiles. Life on the Hill is good.
I did a turn around the academic quad, smiling inwardly, maybe outwardly, too. I thought of Scrooge escorted by Dickens's ghosts, as though I could have walked into any of the groups of students and said, "Hey, we used to do this very thing," but remained invisible.