an earthy, sticky smell

It's currently 81 degrees and I'm sitting on my porch, enjoying the slightly cooler air as the sun sets behind the houses across the street. Weather-wise, this has been a really great weekend. Personally, this has been a really great weekend.

I've been going through "lasts" - last class period, last Spring Fling, last Friday Eucharist chapel service, soon to be last papers, last coffee hour, last YDS. It hasn't sunk in that these are my lasts, there's still some surrealistic notions in my mind, almost like I don't believe it. I know it, but I don't understand it. One month from today is graduation and I'm out of here shortly after. The unknown looms, but still theoretically. There could be endless summer evenings on this porch for all I know.

I'm really going to miss this place - the people, the love, the humor, the academic and personal challenges. I almost want to compare my time here to a mountaintop experience where things are awesome but you can't stay there; you have to descend for the green, flourishing valleys. But that's not the case - I feel really sustained here. Life isn't barren but beautiful like on a mountaintop, but really rich and amazing. I'm not quite sure what to make of it yet, but I know this - I leave changed. Parting is bittersweet, indeed.

At the same time, I'm itching to get back to Minneapolis. I miss Amy and Drew and Kari; seeing MOK kids for Nat's wedding was really great. Reminded me why I love them so much and shaded these past few weeks with a longing for their company. Besides the friendships, I'm ready to start working. I'm ready to jump in and get my hands dirty. In chapel Friday, Emilie Townes asked us if we could smell the wetness of clay, waiting to be molded and shaped. Without a doubt, yes.

There's an intrinsic sweetness to a cool breeze. It carries an earthy, sticky smell.