Greeklife’s Ill Effects
On my quest into the woods to observe deliberately, I decided to go with my friend and groupmate, Evan Shuryn. We thought about going to the Arbortetum on south campus but figured it would be easier to walk behind Evan’s house on our beloved ‘frat row’. Behind his house is a small grove of trees and bushes before a slight cliff that gives way to more student housing below. The weather was pleasant when we first stepped past the collapsed fence on the edge of his property, there was a pleasantly warm breeze blowing east from the genesee valley and it was overcast. Although, I quickly realized this was the wrong place to observe nature, we followed a small path through dead undergrowth and an accumulation of rotted mattresses from years of college students assaulted my vision. Their rusted springs rose out of the growth mother nature had been using to digest them. I noticed a defiant, purple flower protesting the mattressess’ occupation. The ground was littered with broken glass and rusting beer cans, which might have been less offensive during summer, winter’s affect laying bare their ugliness. Despite this offensive scene, saplings, flowers, and honeysuckle were sprinkled all over and were beginning to bloom; giving me some hope that maybe nature would prevail. 
Southside’s Arboretum
Fleeing from ‘frat row’, Evan and I parked on Southside and walked over to the Arboretum. As we walked towards the arboretum I noticed strangely tall grass clusters with small white tips, I took out my phone and used a plant-identifier to found out it was wild garlic. I dug my hand into the soft soil to dig out a root out of child-like curiosity and behold! It smelled like garlic! It was exciting to find an edible herb, and I began to notice it everywhere. As we walked along the paths I noticed small clusters of wild garlic everywhere. Even though most plants have yet to bloom this spring, honeysuckle’s bright green leaves stood out among the brown and gray background. The trails are also home to some of the oldest trees I have seen with my own eyes, the width of the trunk of one of the trees indicated it was at least 200 years old. It felt like an honor to see such an old, wise creature in an age where most old-growths have been destroyed. As we began to circle back I noticed a bright cluster of yellow tulips among last fall’s rotting leaves and winter-dulled moss. Excited by my discoveries and observations, I only noticed the mud all over my hands and new sneakers as we got into Evan’s car.
