There’s an area on campus that I’ve always found a little mysterious, enchanting, maybe even haunting. Some folks know its there, some pass it by every day and never glance to see it – the old stone steps, moss thick between the cracks, obscured by overgrown vines and greenery.
They lead into nothing. They stop abruptly, chest high above the grass below. There’s nothing there but an empty patch, a shallow, muddy lake that comes and goes with the rain. Bamboo and other trees there – nothing that you can’t find elsewhere in the Sunken Gardens, or elsewhere in campus for that matter. Can you see the steps? They trim the grasses a few times a year, but the steps are never fully uncovered. I found these steps as a freshman, and included them in a scene, a story where a fantastical creature lures an unsuspecting girl to her doom. This place evokes a sense of enchantment and dark mystery. As though by walking down these steps, you’d find yourself in a fairyland.
But we all know that doesn’t happen these days. People rarely wander down there, and almost never use those steps. You won’t know to find it if you don’t look for it, sometimes. Its probably pretty muddy down there, too. Oh well, so much for that.
But if you ever do walk down the street that leads to the Palma Hall and Faculty Center, then glance to the left a bit as you walk, and you might just find it. :)
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