Even More Observations

OBSERVATIONS

 

Bright coat girl looks lost - I sympathise. It's distant down here, here

where nobody looks as, heads bowed they go about their business (although

the two WPC's did give me a precursory glance as they strolled past, hands

in vests to protect from the autumnal chill). My hiding place feels

special, secret, voyeuristic even. There's a looming black cloud that's

threatening rain on our Eden. A recycling van has just trundled past...I've

always thought they were strange. A couple (?) walk past holding hands and

whispering excitedly to one another. I wonder what they were talking about?

People in classes look solemn, bored even. I feel sorry for them, they're

stuck inside, imprisoned while I'm free to roam and find inspiration

outside although we both fall under the umbrella term of 'student'. We are

both still learning new skills, but they can't embrace the fresh air and

invigorating calmness that nature provides. The black cloud is not

threatening anymore - it's doing. Little pitter-patters of rain fall on

both, the racing forms of students rushing for sanctuary and my notebook

alike. How do the ducks on the pond feel about rain? The smokers clearly

feel disgruntled as they struggle to simultaneously shield the delicate

stick and nervous flame from the wind and rain. Time's nearly up and people

seem to have fled from my sight as well as the elements, leaving me with

nothing more to observe apart from one lonely woman strolling through the

rain at a leisurely pace, casually holding her coat over her arm as she

embraces the slight shower of nature.

 

Toni Gilbert

 

My Observation in the Wilson Centre

 Tap, tap; the sound of high heeled shoes as they walk across the marbled floor, creating a beat that accompanies the gentle hum of the vending machine. The somewhat soothing sound is interrupted by the forceful opening of the door, and more tap tapping follows. A lady of medium height, with short, curly brown hair and wearing a black skirt suit stumbles as she makes her way across the shiny marble.

The much more suitable trainer shoe can be spotted regularly, be it ‘Converse,’ ‘Nike’ or ‘Adidas;’ white trainers with green stripes, green trainers with white stripes, pink pumps, grey pumps, multi-coloured hi-tops. They make a squelching sound, still damp from the puddles of rain outside.

Trees can be seen through the window, swaying gently in the breeze. A few drops of rain fall, just beyond the window, dripping from the roof. Having been clinging on for dear life, they reach the floor with a splatter. A leaf rolls across the concrete, riding along in the wind.

 

Porsche Walker

 

MY BLOG PIECE

     I take a seat on one of the many brick walls that face the Wilson centre with my hot chocolate of which tastes amazing in this cold wintery weather. The metallic silver of which the building is made from is eye catching making it hard to miss. The time of which I sit here is during the time that most students have lectures therefore the atmosphere is quiet and somewhat peaceful compared to the usual buzz of people’s voices reverberating off the surrounding buildings. The only sound I can hear is the pattering of the rain hitting the stone floor. The sky is cluttered with steel grey clouds which don’t seem to be passing any time soon. If I turn around I can see the pea green all weather pitches that are circulated by the 800m running track. A boy is kicking a football against the fencing of the all-weather pitch with a glum expression painted on his face probably due to the weather or other unknown troubles. I am shivering now as the wind that hits me is ice cold but luckily lectures are nearly over and people begin to disperse slowly from the Wilson Centre and lectures are over.

 

Stefani Trwoga

 

Observation

 Even the slightest increase in height results in a much improved picture. I have climbed this tree to a height of about one story and the veil of lugubrious grey has been replaced by an illuminating tint of white. Suddenly everything doesn’t look so banal. The most appealing feature is the small pond, juxtaposed to the minor construction site to the left, adorned with ducks thrashing around in ritual chaos. There is a strange convergence of the natural greens and browns of the area around my tree and the mono-chromatic reds and greys of the buildings to the left which have a sort-of null effect on the senses. The only real, noteworthy thing is the people walking by in long strides; all sharing an aimless gaze with no discernible emotion showing. It gives you the impression that they can’t stand being outside or maybe they can’t stand being alive at all-I’ll have to follow one into a building to find out.

 

Tom Nixon