Written by: Taylor DiPietro
Copyedited by: Jordan Harrow

To the View Outside My Window,

I see Simpson Hall and the intersection of Museum and some road that isn’t long enough to have a name. There’s a large, elegant pine tree with its spanish moss swaying gently in the breeze. I wonder how long it has been there and about the generations it has seen. The top of another tree takes up the lower right corner of my view. I see the road and sidewalks on either side of the street. The bus stop is just out of view to the left, and Hume’s front door is to my right.

People rush by on bikes, mopeds, scooters, and their own two feet. The joggers confuse me because I consider walking across campus to my chemistry class enough exercise as it is. The people walking by are an interesting mix of fraternity and sorority members and medical students in their scrubs. I see a father riding bikes with his small children, and I hope those kids become Gators one day. It delighted me when I realized I could hear the buses with their robotic voices calling out the route (although, no matter how many times I’ve seen the advertisement for the Publix chicken tender sub with blue cheese, I still don’t want it). On late nights (or maybe they’re early mornings), it’s eerie to see the buses slide down the street at 2 a.m. Sometimes, I’m caught off guard by the sudden cacophony of honking until I see the parade of guys riding by on their mopeds yelling and carrying flags. I’ve still yet to figure out why they do it, and I seem to be the only one confused. Maybe it’s a weekly reminder of their brotherhood. I think it’s a bit weird, but it makes me laugh.

I love the way the light reflects off of Simpson at dusk. The world turns orange, and everything seems so soft. Slowly, the amount of people rushing by dwindles. I still see their outlines moving in the dark though, and I hear their laughter drift in. The scene outside my window is always full of life, and it makes me feel less alone on the long days. Everyone knows where they’re going even if I don’t. I like to think about how I walk in the same crowds daily, and I feel like I’m part of something. The view outside my window makes me want to stay here. It makes me love Gainesville way more than I thought I would. It makes me excited for the colder weather that I’ve been promised but have yet to see. This time last year, I was at home wishing I was here, and I’m glad I’m here now.