Amid the droning on and on of wrinkled deans and acclaimed academics wearing ridiculous hats, I sat in my cap and gown with two thousand of my closest friends and waited for it to be over. I was anxious, as I only had one bar of battery power left on my phone from incessantly texting my roommates whom were also scattered around me in the sea of black polyester. For once, I was thankful that cellphones really have pervaded into every aspect of our society. However, alphabetical destiny had situated me next to one individual who was less than amused with my disregard for ceremonial formalities. He repeatedly looked down on my furious fingers, shaking his head while releasing exaggerated, long breaths in my direction. I was internally amused, as he looked at me with condescending scrutiny which I ignored despite the way his red tassel shook under my nose like a scolding finger every time he turned his head.
Lucky for him, my texting marathon was interrupted by the sound of a train whistle chirping in the distance. I looked up, and for the first time paid full attention to my surroundings. I thought about how that sound had been such a comfort to me over the last four years. In my very first entry of this blog, (three years ago - wow) I wrote only two sentences, but they were about the trains. I don't know why they mesmerize me the way they do. I think it has something to do with the suggestion of an escape, of leaving where you are for something different, better. That noise in itself awakens my desire to see new places, and fills me with the curiosity and wanderlust of pursuing new surroundings. Nothing resonated with me more during those tedious three hours then hearing the train whistles announcing their passing through the nearby station.
It was then that I felt as though everything was coming full circle. And it finally felt like a chapter of my life was coming to an end.
I don't know where I'll go from here, but something tells me that train whistles may be in my future.