Sitting on a new bench under an old, gracefully ageing tree, breathing timeless air…. surrounded by light that is softly filtering through the leaves…an unforgettable atmosphere is created… everything contributes to its uniqueness… cobwebs that have missed the gardener’s vigilant eye and thrive in forgotten corners…a delicate abandoned nest, still secure amidst branches, but empty. Wind that rustles and talks to the leaves like long lost friends. There is sheer poetry in the way colour fades from ancient walls and iron rusts on huge hinges. Ivy climbs and moss grows. Brave, little flowers push their way out of cobble stoned paths. These are not processes that follow any rules. They take their leisurely time to bring inimitable character to the surroundings where they exist. The gloss of newness fades into colours of immense character and depth.
Joining this timelessness is the sound of a hundred fresh young voices, soaring uniformly into a crescendo, like a flock of birds taking flight… singing an ancient hymn. I feel goose bumps rise on my arms.
It feels as if the chorus is echoed by the walls that have been witness to thousands of such mornings, over the years…
The desks tell forgotten stories… new students carve out fresh tales of their own on it…each one adding their imprint on that which existed before….
Our life is not in isolation, it is a super imposition on an existing design. We all leave our mark on it…changing it forever…. for better or for worse.