By Miranda Metheny
Students fill the long green lawn before the university, in groups playing frisbee, in couples studying, in girls spread out on beach towels to nap in the sunshine. Gelato is never more than a thirty second sprint away and sells in a constant stream at seventy cents a cone. Cherry trees blossom in the parks that line the Rhein, and baby piglets run comically over one another in the city forest. Everything is new and fresh — the air is so fragrant that breathing transcends need and becomes a pleasure.
I ride my bike down Poppelsdorfer Allee between the palaces at night under new green leaves and the full moon, or up into the hills at sunset to find Drachenfels Castle or the ruins of an ancient monastery. We travel to Holland and wander through fields of tulips, past oddly silent windmills, along Amsterdam’s olive green canals.
The window in our dorm now stands open and the classrooms seem to have transitioned seamlessly from drafty to stuffy. Now and then it crosses my mind that we might be in for a nasty summer without air conditioning. But it’s not a time for worrying — it’s an easy time to be alive.