In the last two weeks.

My class went on a field trip to a beautiful library at Boston College, called Bapst library. It was after hours, so we had the run of it, which was somehow magical in itself. To add to this, our tour guide (an art librarian), took us upstairs to the "Harry Potter room." I felt reverent and still as soon as I entered, overcome by the vaulted ceilings, columns, and stained glass walls portraying philosophers, theologians, and artists. Our host stood in the center walkway and said that there is something about an environment that can just make you feel smarter. I agree. I felt it.

Other things that struck me, coming home on two separate occasions: my neighbor on his knees, laboring in his garden, and a cool breeze as I stood under the shade of a tree. Then another neighbor to the other side, a young mother playing in a sprinkler with her daughter. I haven't seen them before, but the mother smiled warmly and said hello as I passed. Their sweet, summer fun was the happiest sight. Just getting a glimpse was enough to fill me with delight and I could not stop grinning.

Another day I passed a cute girl on a cute bike. Minutes after arriving at my destination she walked in the same door, being my friend's new roommate. Days (or maybe a week) later, Riley and Damien were sitting in my living room, fresh from the greyhound and their most recent Kerouac-esque adventure in New Orleans. Riley explained that he knew one other girl in Boston before inviting her over. For the second time I watched the cute bicycler enter a door. I learned her name is Kaity, and she swam with us that night. Later after facebook told me the additional friends we have in common, I realized we once played croquet together in a Provo park. Probably exactly one year ago, leading me to believe that we are destined to be friends. Friday I joined her in her explorations of Boston. We ended the evening with Derik, eating at Quincy Market and watching (500) Days of Summer, which movie is perfect.

I also saw a fox while on an evening stroll, and felt a little bit scared. I called Jessica to see if she thought it possible that I was looking at a fox in a residential (though forested) neighborhood in New England, because while it looked like a fox, and while I was fairly certain that it was a fox, I was still slightly unsure. She thought that it was possible and asked if I needed her to stay on the phone, since I was nervous. I said no, but we ended up staying on the phone anyway. It was a good conversation.

That same night, via gchat, Regan and I discovered we share the same intense and long-lasting love for an old Built to Spill song. The Weather. He was going to a free show the next day at Coney Island.