whoosh

It's a bit like an elaborate press tour; we've forgotten what day it is, are both dog-tired and we're shoved into large groups of people we don't have much in common with. Our adorable short, butch, crew-cutted tour guide at Bard won me over with her breathy enthusiasm. The campus is vibrant, colorful, varied. I drive and he takes pictures through the windows of our speeding rental car, blurs of red and orange and yellow. Ridiculously beautiful, the whooshing by of the trees. I'm waiting while he interviews and then off again, to Wesleyan, to Connecticut, to another 'orrible 'otel.