Observations, Hubs and Ducks

Watching the World Go By

 

I’m stood on the bridge near the lake. It’s rather peaceful with the water rippling gently, the tall blades of grass swaying together as if doing a synchronised dance and the birds chirping above. A man to the right of me is chopping greenery- well I use the term ‘chopping’- more ‘attacking’, really. With making all of these observations I’ve only just noticed that it’s actually rather chilly. Still it’s quite pleasant to be here, caught up in the sound of the water and the song of the birds. Standing alone.

All of a sudden the cry of an ambulance breaks into my trail of thoughts. I really hate that sound- even when it’s only in the distance it still makes you wonder where it’s going and internally you pray that whoever it is saving will be OK.

I’m walking a little further now. As I wander on a bright orange Honda motorbike catches my eye. The colour has connotations of fire and reminds me of the other emergency services plus the incredible job they all do.

As I sit down on a bench, I tuck my coat underneath to avoid the cold, damp wood coming into contact with my other clothing. The sound of laughter echoes from across the lake, carried on the wind. It’s such a contrast to the dread, fear and general upset of when a loved one is inside that ambulance.

I notice that I can smell cigarette smoke, and when I glance to my right there’s a girl puffing on a cigarette. The strong, pungent blue cloud that it’s producing travels towards me. Then, almost as if she knows that I’m watching her, she stubs the cigarette out and heads indoors.

The puddles on the ground make me think of all the bad weather lately, especially where I come from in North Yorkshire. Amidst all the peace and tranquillity I spare a few moments for the people affected by the floods. With the sun peeping though the clouds it seems weird that the weather can cause such chaos; even complete and utter destruction.

As if picking up on my thoughts the sun disappears behind a cloud. I glance around, as there don’t seem to be many people nearby, and a man in the Health and Social Care Building catches my eye. He bites his nail absentmindedly and then turns back to working on his computer. The concentration on his face is clear, seen even through a glass window.

A lone duck floats on the lake, drifting along, letting the water direct it. In a way that duck is just like me; going with the flow, letting all that is happening nearby capture the imagination.

A moment later more ducks appear, and cluster together, protecting each other. And, as the rain begins to fall I head inside, also looking for that same protection. They have each other, I have a seat in a building with a roof over my head.

I can hear a buzzing noise coming from another part of the building. I’m not sure what it is. I try to block it out, concentrate on what I’m doing. Voices and laughter sound above it; it’s almost as if the two are competing, trying to see which will distract me the most.

 

Charlotte Booth

 

An Observation

As I sit here the world passes by, but at a pace I would not expect. My coat crinkles beneath me as I shuffle into a comfortable position on this damp wall within the bigger, more daunting walls of the University. Yet, as people walk by: students, lecturers, I am beginning to see the true attraction of University life.

Some walk alone through this campus which is experiencing its first glimpse of blue sky since our arrival on Sunday. Others walk in company, chatting, but clearly still strangers to each other as they gradually gain a slight insight of snippets from the other’s lives. The odd trooper passes by, one in particular carrying a policeman’s hat; probably the only remnants of the “Emergency Services” outfit he could find after the adventures of the previous night. He obviously didn’t make it all the way on his return home in the early hours, and as he wipes the dry sleep from his glazed eyes it is possible to see the shadow of his sober self along with a glimmer of the ghosts of last night.

As the wind picks up and the rain drops begin to fall, the pace of the world around me begins to race. Gone is the slow, gentle movement around campus, and in its place the flash of umbrella’s as they pop open, along with the gentle run of students and lecturers doing their best to avoid the inevitable rain fall. As has happened so much this week, the ground begins to moisten as the weather takes its toll and the puddles that have already formed slowly but surely deepen. The leaves drooping from the trees around me begin to flop under the weight of rain drops on this now bleak morning, and dark clouds roll in even closer making the blue sky disappear, along with the hope it had given us of a brighter weekend.

 Olivia Pratt

 

Not Exactly Peaceful

 

It’s not exactly peaceful; in fact it’s so far from peaceful that I’m finding it hard to come up with a word that describes how loud and busy the campus actually was.
Ignoring the mass amounts of students, mostly fresher’s, prancing with excitement at the prospect of beginning their courses; I took note of the usual grey sky. It was a familiar site in Ormskirk, the dark shades of clouds covering what could have been a glorious blue sky, complementing the beautiful campus that surrounded me. But no, the clouds covered it as usual, forcing students to take cover under any nearby shelter as said clouds began to pour with rain, drops crashing into already existing puddles from a previous burst of downpour.
Scanning the campus once again, I couldn’t help but allow my eyes to linger a little longer on the several larger groups of friends travelling around the building together. One group wore white polo shirts and tracksuit pants, immediately alerting every other student what course they had chosen at Edge Hill. Another group were the exact opposite, the group containing six girls who didn’t look the least bit like they could pass for university students, all dressed in baggy cardigans, glasses on the ends of their noses and their eyes looking anywhere but at other students.
Yes, the campus was beautiful, but it was a boring, boring day.

 Danielle Crichton

 

Observation

I sit here in haste with my bottle of diet Pepsi , due to the fact that my first choice of a caramel cream frappucino from Starbuck's is not possible due to a machinery malfunction. "Starbuck's is overrated anyway", I try to convince myself as I leave the till without my more favoured drink.

A man wearing a top hat walks by pushing a crate of unidentifiable cardboard boxes along on a small silver trolley. I ponder for a second over what could be in those boxes. Books, maybe. Stationary. Maybe some university printed hoodies. Nothing interesting of course.

I sit and see a boy a couple of tables away from me , eating his evening meal alone. I consider the acute sadness of his situation, however quickly realising that I too am alone. It is early evening in the hub and the usual buzz that is apparent in the same vicinity during the day  is gone; in its place are small groups of people sitting down to eat their evening meal, interspersed with the occasional herd of students parading past as they are released from their lectures and allowed home for the day.

The man in the top hat has returned, from the direction he disappeared into and this time without his crate of unidentified cardboard boxes. I hear the faint sound of the six o'clock news coming on, followed shortly by a black and white clip of The Beatles' "Love Me Do". I contemplate for a moment on why The Beatles are on the six o'clock news, but soon realising I don't care enough to move any closer to the television screen.

More swarms of people. I feel judged by each one of them as I sit here alone with my head down in a small pink exercise book, sipping on the disappointment of what is my second choice beverage of diet Pepsi.

I notice the boy who had been sitting alone has now gathered quite a sizable group of friends; I then look around to see that the only other person sat alone is a man- dressed in the typical attire of a university lecturer- he too eating his evening meal.

I realise that all of these people eating have made my own stomach grumble with hunger. I also realise how long I have now been sat here, watching all mannerisms of people come and go.  Outside, the sky has turned to an increasingly darkening blue colour, mixed with the grey of the day's clouds. The bright overhead lights in the hub seem unnatural in contrast, but that's nothing out of the ordinary. Natural or unnatural, sitting in the dark would be significantly more of a hassle than anything.

More swarms of people. Less and less of whom are keen to stick around for very long. More wafts from other people's food filling up my nostrils.
I leave.

 Olivia Craig

 

THE HUB

 

What am I expecting to find in The Hub?  A fanfare, fireworks, the A-frame

advertisements displayed outside McColls to suddenly haul themselves up on

hydraulic legs and attack unsuspecting shoppers?  In the absence of a

full-on Florida-style Disney parade appearing I settle down in a seat by

Starbucks.  Instinct (or habit) draws me to the bank of TV screens.  BBC

news.  Almost inaudible.  I can ‘see’ four TV screens but can I actually

‘watch’ four TV screens?  Although it may be the exact right place to test

this hypothesis I decide it’s not the right time.  People.  Let’s talk

about people.  Loads of them.  Some in huge groups, some on their own.

Eating, drinking, talking, listening, laughing, walking, reading.  The ones

on their own tend not to be the ones talking, listening and laughing.

Unless, of course, they are on their mobile phone.  Then it’s alright.  The

majority of mobile phone users seem to be able to do all of the above at

once.  Multitaskers.  I’ll test this hypothesis out at a later date too.

All shapes, sizes, ages.  Blonde, brunette, auburn, pink, blue, grey.

Don’t even get me started on attire.  The diversity is stunning and

overwhelming.  Why are those four men in hi-vis jackets wearing their hats

indoors?  I’m not asking this because I think it impolite to wear a hat

indoors but because I wonder if they know of some impending calamity which

is about to befall The Hub.  After consideration I decide I’m being overly

nervous and they are just being sensible.  The act of carrying a Starbucks

venti decaff skinny latte, a takeaway full cooked breakfast and a hard hat

would challenge most accomplished jugglers.  I’m gibbering now.

 

People.  I want to make this a morose little piece but the individuals in

here are hell bent on confusing me.  They all appear quite content.  How

selfish of them!

 

I pack up my belongings in anticipation of returning to my Group and

finally notice it is raining outside.  As I exit there are no EHU

cheerleaders jumping excitedly out of the recycling bins.  No orange sofas

hauling themselves up on hydraulic legs.

 

No.

 

Just someone crying into their mobile phone.

 

Now it’s me who feels selfish.

 

JEN MURPHY

 

FRENZIED FOOTFALL

 

Sat, secluded, I see the bustling campus I am only starting to know has

become a notably different space. Frenzied

footfall has given way to a fine mix of distant but encompassing sounds,

bringing the surroundings to the fore and

shaping the impression of where I am. The trees rustle as they sway,

traffic is humming in the distance, an

ambulance siren plays a melody amongst it. No one is around.

 

Seemingly this is not the place people disappear to as they hurry and

scurry past, book in arm, gleam in eye and

noting my presence amongst the throng.

 

As a few people start to appear there's the familiar clack of heels against

the tarmac accompanied by an unfamiliar

face. Every now and then an engine churns nearby and the campus seems to

regain some of it's purpose. Out of sight

it dominates the scene. Then, gingerly, a lady approaches and enquires as

to my purpose. "You don't often see

students sat up here on wet benches."

 

It's not raining but the gentleman who walks by - green umbrella in tow -

makes me aware that torrential downpour

looms above, threatening the calm below. A limp flag rouses itself from the

intensifying call of the wind. It can't

be felt down here but like the imminent rain it gives itself away.

 

A man walks nearby carrying four boxes of food and I realise I may be

hungry. My mind and stomach both speculate

as to what each box may contain. Could be tasty. I am hungry. In place of

food I take in more of my surroundings.

Feeling acclimatised I continue to put pen to paper but then have to leave.

My words and thoughts start to wash

away as the threat is fulfilled. It's raining now.

 

Luke Williams

 

Observations

 

A fair winter breeze eases its way through the air, cooling everything it

touches: from the moist, green grass, up to the majestic, tall trees, that

gracefully sway in the damp autumn air.

 

On the wet morning dew, countless feathers, slick, white and grey, are

scattered over the grass untidily. Close to the water edge, there are some

small trees, rougher than sandpaper, with small confetti leaves hanging

from the long sharp branches. These are nowhere near as majestic as some of

the larger trees. Thicker than an elephants trunk, they stand tall and

proud, as guardians of the lake.

 

A young, male student has stepped onto the grass, startling a pair of

ducks. They take off quickly, not wanting to stay too close to the tall

figure. Behind them, they leave gentle ripples off water, as do many of the

other birds swimming in the lake. One of them is shiny and black, with a

beak as red as a sweet apple. It glides confidently, almost aware of its

majesty and uniqueness, very different from the dark green mallards and

light brown ducks.

 

At a closer inspection, the water appears to be mysteriously moving on its

own: dancing gently up and down, whilst sparkling happily. The cause could

be that metallic, waterfall-like feature, which is sending bucketful after

bucketful of water cascading into the lake. Above it, there is a rusted,

blue railing, dripping from the previous rainfall. Upon it lies a wooden

top, as broad as a desk, and behind it, many wooden floorboards, all

drenched.

 

On the other side of the lake, there are many different kinds of plants,

which make up a wonderfully green jungle. The peace doesn’t keep for long,

as suddenly in the distance a police siren can be heard. It’s very slight,

but unmistakable, interrupting the wonderful calm of nature.

Soon after, two policemen walk formally up the path by the lake, in vibrant

green uniforms. They look calm, so it seems as though nothing too bad has

happened, yet it certainly appears that they’re here on serious business.

Suddenly, a shrieking can be heard from the sky as, on the left of the

lake, a fat gull swoops close to the ground, irritating anyone close to it,

before flying back up very quickly again. Many of its comrades are in the

sky grouped in a gang, arrogantly gliding whilst sneering at those

‘inferior’ beings, relegated to the ground.

 

Suddenly out of nowhere, a choking sensation interferes with the nice,

grassy fragrance. A tall female student has lit a cigarette, and is now

excreting the foul, artificial gas into the cool winter breeze, which

carries it over the lake, and into the greenery.

 

Over on the right side of the lake, thick green moss is creeping out from

underneath a brick patterned floor, close to a small wooden walkway (very

similar to a bridge). To the left of this, foamy white water jumps and

cascades over thick, grey rocks, forming a rapids that runs down into the

lake.

 

Beyond this is another jungle, with trees reaching taller than any on the

grass around the lake. It is difficult to see through the shadows created

by the height of the trees, so it seems, for now, whatever lays any further

must remain a mystery.

 

Christian Brumwell

 

 Mass Observation (by the Lake)

 

Winter appears to be ensnaring the campus; the air has become crisper and

yet the breeze is barely powerful enough to cause puddles to quiver.

There’s a fringe of reeds that frame the lake’s edge, waving back and forth

as if imitating a heart - never skipping a beat. Smoke rises from the

glowing embers of cigarettes as they stand to attention; the filters

creating a mound above the bin, while fellow fallen soldiers absorb the

ground’s moisture, tobacco spraying from splinted ends.

 

The sky begins altering into a darker shade, an ominous sense appears to

creep over as the clouds block out the sun’s rays. Droplets begin to fall

from the Heavens; piercing the surface of the lake. The odd drip lands on

my paper, causing the ink to bleed across the page and the page corners to

curl like a fern leaf. As the weather deteriorates the ducks cower beneath

the lake’s entwined collection of plants; their cry barely audible as the

sound travels across the water to the drier land.

 

I can’t stand the rain any longer, so I follow the masses in through the

doors of the nearest building. There seems to be a unanimous mumble of

speech and grins exchanged by strangers, as they find humour in their rain

covered appearances; finally covered from nature’s unpredictable mood

swings.

 

Alexa Bassling

 

 

Brief Encounter

 

Sitting at the table in front of me are two women conversing with one and

another whilst enjoying their meal and drink. People are passing through

the Hub to get to places and possibly to kill time as they could be waiting

for their next lecture or seminar. The canteen is starting to become full

as people are cuing up to buy food and drinks. Others are now sitting

around a table and enjoying the company of their friends.

 

Haroon Hussain

 

DUCKS

Outside I notice how quiet Edge Hill is for the amount of activity that is going on around the campus. Waiting as the man on his tractor passes a red bucket placed on the trailer at the back, warning lights flashing. Looking at his face I think to myself how he seems happy in his work.   

The water in the lake is rippling and the reeds are swaying in the breeze.  Further across five ducks swim backwards and forwards effortlessly.  It looks like the mild current is moving them along.  Signs for health and safety are placed discreetly to inform but not too bold to look ugly against the beautiful scenery. The waterfall is under the bridge, this explains the current.

Two police women walk past me as I smile one says “Hi how are you”? The other carries on her conversation. A young man walks past looks bit lost but not unhappy, followed by four girls two in duffle coats chatting away to each other.  Another young man stops to watch the water fall.  Across the lake diagonally four students are sat at a picnic bench, I can hear them laughing.  Three workmen are looking admiringly at a motor bike they look like they are considering buying it.  It is not as impressive as the one parked a few yards along.

The buildings although large are not overwhelming. They seem to tone in with the scenery as well as any man made structure can. Outside the health building seventeen people are stood, looks like they are on a break only four of them are not smoking.  Either side of lake there are two bright red lifebelt holders.

As I make my way round I see a lone black duck bobbing up and down in the water happily looking for food.  Enormous leaves that look like rhubarb are spread along the lakeside, I half expected Tom Thumb or one of the little people to pop out and say hello. Among the giant leaves are what look like Cactus plants, they are green and orange in colour, shaped like rockets very interesting. Among the plants a solitary purple hyacinth is bent over, it looks like it has been a victim of the rough winds. 

Trees are beginning to change colour as Autumn sets in some are golden as flax. A notice displaying wildlife on the lake shows that the giant plant is wild rhubarb.  It also shows a picture of a frog, rabbit, plants and butterflies.

A I walk past the bench the students I had heard laughing previously were still sat chatting and laughing. There is a tree to my left, it looks like a willow tree that has been adopted as a wishing or hope tree by students. The ribbons tied on have writing on from students stating what their hopes and achievements are.

To my right on the lake seven large ducks are elegantly cruising around. Whilst six black and red ducks charge around making sounds like squeaky toys. To my left on a small grass hill just by the wooden bridge are three objects that look like totem poles. A waterfall flows down over stones that are probably centuries old and continues under the neatly made wooden bridge where three of my fellow students are observing the water fall.  A young girl smiles as she passes me, she is having a smoke. A gardener is using secateurs to prune the trees outside.

A young man speaks to me as I approach the building where my class is. During the conversation I ask him where he is from. He lives in the next town to where my three sisters live. I also asked him if he was settling in ok. He said “He loves Edge Hill, but is not too keen on the rain”.

 

Stella Connor