plenty of sunshine comin' my way

[melannen]

I'm updating this from my rope hammock. It's an absolutely indescribably beautiful day, with sun and birds chirping and squirrels and flowers blooming everywhere and breeze blowing and it's about eighty degrees out but the giant mutant mosquitos haven't started hatching yet.

The Mall is *full* of people, and they're all having vast amounts of fun. (I'm not sure exactly *what* kind of fun, because being as I am asocial, I've hung my hammock in the bare little gardeny area on the south side of McKeldin Library, which is probably where I'll be on nice afternoons the rest of the year, if, y'know, you're in the area.) I am in a very good mood. And it's partly just the whole lovely sunny day and swing swing swing in a hammock part, which is just automatically happiness-inducing really. And it's partly that I'm getting (relatively) massive amounts of studying done, because somehow there's no motivation *not* to work when I'm sitting in a swinging hammock under a green tree on a sunny day. One of my most vivid homework memories is sitting in Katy and Charisse's clubhouse on a spring day writing my report on seaweed for the gifted and talented teacher in third grade, and being *happy*.

And it's partly that pulling out my hammock on campus is an automatic ego-boost, because I have yet to spend an afternoon in it without at least two people coming over and gushing to me about how *awesome* that is, to have a *hammock*, and what a *genius* I am for thinking of it. (okay?) And it's all sorts of people, too, from the nerdiest to the most interchangeably trendy. The tally for today is now at four six, including a tour group, yay. It's even more fun than getting out my typewriter, because people are less in awe of a hammock. (I should try the typewriter and the hammock *at the same time* sometime. I wonder if passers-by would just spontaneously explode at the sight. Except I would probably fall out of the hammock while trying to type.) ETA: The odd thing is that many of them wantedto know if the hammock was mine or the school's. I guess a 'hammock' does not fall into most people's conception of a person al item like a blanked or even a lawn chair. I'm beginning to think I should grab a couple more from home and make a sign saying "Hammocks for rent, $5 an hour" but I fear that hammocking is the sort of liminally legal activity that it's wizer not to call attention to. Even though I bet I could make mad money that way.)

And partly it's the drums. Someone's been playing the drums for the last few hours somewhere within earshot. Drums. Somehow, drums in the distance always seem to say "This is a community, this is a family, this is a home, this is a tribe. Welcome, welcome, welcome, listen to our songs, learn our rhythms, feel our dance." Every so often I catch a few guitar chords, too, or even what sounds like a harmonica. I don't think I could ever be as happy as in a place where people make their own music. If I ever get an apartment on my own, I'll ask for the one upstairs from the guy who always practices his trombone at four in the morning.

Comments

[aelkiss.livejournal.com]

Mm - I saw your post and decided I was getting a bit hungry anyway so I wandered out, but I don't see you - maybe you wandered off - it's about 4:30. I'm sitting on the wall on the north side of McKeldin near HJP and the Pi sculptures if you're actually still out here somewhere.

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Eh, I was still here, but you probably wandered off again-- by McKeldin I mean the library not the mall, probably should have specified that.

[aelkiss.livejournal.com]

Oh. I wandered over to the Union, but then wandered back. Now your battery is probably dead and you're gone ;-)

[siegeofangels.livejournal.com]

I sat on the National Mall yesterday, and watched little kids chase each other, and couples ask me to take their picture, and joggers go past. Was lovely.

When I went to visit my undergrad institution, way back in my senior year of high school, part of what made me think it was the Right Place For Me was that it was a beautiful spring day, and there was somebody outside, playing the marimba.

My junior year, in the springtime there was a boy sculpting stone, and I could hear the tink tink tink from my room; my last anthropology class I ever took there was to the distant swells of Tara's Theme, coming from an outdoor concert.

*is all nostalgic now*

[antiscian.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, you have a hammock! That's so awesome! A hammock!. What a genius you are for thinking of it!


(And I'm actually being 86% sincere, because, well, hammocks are cool.)

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Of *course* hammocks are cool! Especially the little nylon rope ones that are little enough to carry around in your pockets.

It's the genius part the troubles me. Apparently 'genius' happens like this: "Hmmm, what a lovely day, it's the kind of day for laying around in a hammock. Wow, I wish I had a hammock." *gets hammock* *is genius*

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Ooh, the sound of somebody outside sculpting stone.

I should make it back down to the National Mall soon. I have a metro card just sitting in my wallet...