Mass Observation 2014: Dragonflies and Confucius on the Western Campus of Edge Hill University

WESTERN CAMPUS

 

Rain is the focal point to anything within the area as it surrounds the entire campus. Rain pounds against the misting windows, obstructing the view of feasting and chattering students. Except, there is no sound. It is an odd feeling being able to watch people live their lives ad not be able to interact with them fully. The sky begins to grow darker as the clouds start swirling, forming sinister shapes which circle the campus. 

 

The waterfall offers a more picturesque setting. Settling, calming, a point of reflection. From here, students can be seen clammering from building to building; I assume they're trying to escape the rain or at least find some warmth. 

 

Students sporting various outdoor wear, whether it be simple zip up hoodies or the large storm proof coats, make their way to their various destinations. There is a short burst of energy within the area as students appear in one moment but are gone in the next. 

 

However one student in particular catches my attention, as she stands close to the water's edge. She stands there for a brief moment, hands in pockets, hood covering what is clearly a mane of mass blonde hair; she seems to appreciate this type of weather and the bleak beauty it offers. 

 

But this beauty is often broken, by the infernal quaking of the nearby ducks. 

Elisabeth Hatton

 

 

‘Meeting friends’

The sun is breaking through the clouds, blinding me, forcing me to look down. The bicycle racks gleam as the sun reflects upon the remaining beads of rain that cling to them.

A smiling teacher acknowledges me as she trails a group of young children, clad in identical red and green uniforms. Two by two they walk. Some lift up their little heads, squinting in the sunlight, taking in the fascinating and unusual mishmash of architecture around them. Others exchange excitable conversation with their allocated partners.

I continue towards the older building, somewhat resembling a large manor house, with its grand entrance and red brickwork.  I navigate around the endless corridors, the floor groaning beneath my feet. It is eerily quiet here; the odd student passes by, stops to consider the large notice board and go on their way. I too continue down the corridors.

The wood and brick comes to an abrupt end as the hub appears over the horizon; an open plan building, bustling with people. A million different languages and accents merge into one lively buzz of sound. The smell of coffee drifts from one end of the room whilst I am hit with the aroma of food from the other. Yellow signs boasting a ‘poster sale’ in bold lettering are dotted around as students point at them excitedly and rush up the large staircase; the centrepiece of the building. I glance over to the abundance of white tables arranged around the right side a coffee bar. Most tables are occupied by anonymous people conversing between sips of their frappuccinos. However something catches my eye, several familiar faces clustered around one of the tables. One a guy with an incredible shock of mahogany hair; another with slight stubble, wearing his ubiquitous plaid shirt; a girl with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail; and the last with wavy hair around her shoulders and a kind face. They grin and wave enthusiastically, calling my name; I walk over and take my seat next to them.

Vicky Loftus

 

 

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

Through the towering fresh buildings of home, Beauty sways back and forth infornt of the impenetrable glass door. Her short dress is crumpled and dirty form the party, doing nothing to protect her from the relentless rain. More people walk by, cheering and laughing about ‘The Best Night Ever’ as they stagger along the lakeside. Beauty swivels to cheer back and wave with a cheshire cat grin to the crowd.  Her sopping hair and painted smile didn’t stop her excited shine as she agrees to ‘TBNE’.

No one is close enough to notice the dark rings, red rimmed eyes that speak differantly. Her charming smile doesn’t reach them. As the door finally opens for her shaking hand, and the audience dissapears from sight. Her expression drops to one of solemn thought as she dissapears through the impenetrable glass door.     

 

Imogen Rowe

 

 

FRIDAY 16.13 pm

 His nose, a bulbous mass, ran a clear trail of mucus which he wiped away with the back of his hand. The boy's eyes darted about the immediate perimeter before he continued to walk, both snotted hand and clean hand tucked and concealed into his dark grey fleece pockets.

 Jasmine Gray

 

 

DRAGONFLIES AND CONFUCIUS

 The dragonfly doesn’t seem to have any destination at all, it keeps flying forth and back and in circles over the meadow next to the pond, into the shades of the trees, then high up into the sunlight that is too bright for my eyes. Being blinded for a few moments I notice the sounds around me; someone is hoovering in the Geo sciences building, someone else is producing a hammering noise somewhere, but before I can identify what it is or where it comes from it gets drowned out by the rushing of the wind in the leaves that are already changing their colours. It’s almost autumn, the wind is getting colder and although the sky is perfectly blue right now the floor is still a bit wet from the rain earlier; a young woman walking past me is wearing wet shoes. She walks a bit strangely, maybe it’s because of the shoes, or has something to do with the big plaster on her right shin. (Or just with her very tight skirt).

 Making my way around just as aimlessly as the dragonfly, I watch young people; one of them is carrying a shopping bag from Morrison’s with half a cucumber sticking out of its side, and her high heels produce an eager-sounding tic-toc-tic-toc on the small wooden bridge. As I follow her I spot a cigarette right in the middle of the waterfall the bridge is leading over – how did it get there? Unless someone is feeling really ambitious it will probably sit in its spot for quite a while, since it is protected from the rushing water by a stone.

I keep walking, but there isn’t much going on in the Confucius building, just some invisible human coughing and a Starbucks coffee cup sitting on a table, left behind by its owner. A lot more interesting is the flock of seagulls suddenly taking up into the sky from somewhere behind the pond, their cries disturbing the peacefulness of this lazy Friday afternoon, flying in large circles over the water and the surrounding university buildings, making it look like there’s some important business going on here. These birds are definitely more occupied than anyone else around; especially more than those two guys with their small red vehicles with even smaller trailers over there, looking like they might have to collect leaves, but in fact just standing around watching ducks, until after a while, without any obvious occurrence that could have changed their minds, they get on their tiny tractors and drive off. From the direction they are headed towards a woman with orange hair is coming my way now – her hair is exactly the same colour as the “#GETCONNECTED” label on her university bag and also the same as the bright sign she is now walking past, saying “TODAY ONLY! Sales in The Hub!”. Observing those similarities I notice two men in suits overtaking the woman, because one of them is speaking on a phone that is orange as well – what is it with that colour?! Well, it looks a bit like autumn, I suppose. He says he’ll be home at four. And so I decide to end my dragonfly-like wander and go home as well.

Liz Nothof