SITTING BY THE POND

Below the Queen Sunheon Building on the Sookmyung Women’s University Campus there is a large rectangular pond. It’s bisected by the central stairs and walk leading downhill to the rest of the campus. Fountains on both sides of the walk spray, cooling the air and making a fine sound. Plantings surround the pond. A line of mature trees stands on the uphill side, a viney groundcover flowing down among them to the pond’s rocky edge. Benches are set at intervals along its length, making good places to sit and get out of the generally hot sunshine. Sloping up behind the benches are large hosta beds, blooming now.

I’ve taken to sitting on one bench or another for some time after lunch on those days that we eat in the Faculty Cafeteria. Sometimes I write in my little yellow journal, sometimes I just listen to the water, stare at the varying greens of the plants and trees (few of which I can name) or watch the incredibly large fish in the water, sometimes I manage a blank mind. Occasionally birds appear—Eurasian tree sparrows, magpies, pigeons, possibly Oriental turtledoves, twice something robin-sized and dark with a longish tail resembling no bird I know. Except for the magpies they are often too backlit or quick to be seen clearly.

On a hot afternoon last week I sat looking at one of the large trees almost right in front of me and noticed that the vine covering the ground had swarmed up its trunk well into the branches. I leaned back to see, if I could, just how high it reached, and suddenly the tree looked like a dancer with outstretched arms wearing a lacey green cloak.