The first time I visited Harvard was well over a year ago. I remember feeling almost nervous as I climbed the stairs from the underground T that led to Harvard Square. Surely to walk on the campus of Harvard meant that my mind had to be at its sharpest, my mental behavior at its best. Would others think I was a student? I could pretend I was if I so wanted, if only for that afternoon. And of course I wanted! It is a wonderful thing to pretend in such occasions. My grandfather went to Harvard-a grandfather I never met-and as I stood in the Harvard Yard for the first time, it was as if I was meeting him as well.
Now, the campus and its surrounding area have become quite familiar to me and the awe of the place is not what it used to be. Still, the buildings hold an air of tantalizing mystery about them and I want to know the secrets of their architecture and the stories of the students who studied within them. All in good time, I am sure.
For now, it is pleasant enough to walk Harvard's paths and take photographs of everything that is beautiful to me. It was very romantic this past weekend, what with its snow covered lawns and clear blue skies, home to students wrapped in scarves and carrying satchels and trying desperately to think important thoughts. I may even have tried alongside them. When in Rome...
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