bright lights, little city

This was a beautiful, coolish, pre-autumn night.

The playing fields at Catawba were brightly lit — with remnants of activity.

Only the soccer filed was dark tonight.

The band had just finished practice on the football field.

A guy was doing a bit of grooming on the baseball field.

The volleyball court was lit, awaiting activity.

A pick-up threesome competed hard on the basketball court.

And there was a ladies doubles match on the tennis court.  As I was leaving, one of them poached into the server’s side of the court — fully stretched — and popped a hard backhand volley for a winner.  In my day, girls didn’t play doubles that way.

I grew up next to this campus, here in Salisbury, NC (my parents house).  And for the past twenty-four years, I’ve also lived next to the campus (my house).  That adds up to most of my life.  I guess I wouldn’t really want to live anywhere else.

It’s like living next to a park.  I enjoy observing the ebb and flow of life that school years mark.  The deadly quiet summers with brief flurries of camp activity.  The excitement of fall.  The inwardness of winter.  The bliss of spring.  The sudden vacancies of Christmas and spring break.  The students getting younger and younger — and younger — every year.

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