Place Writing - 2nd draft

Sunlight too bright to see in, wind too sharp to keep my eyes open. Weather-worn benches slouch on the grass in perfect view of the skeletal fortress that is the soon-to-be-new building. Directly opposite it sits the oldest building on campus, the binary opposition of old and new with at least a decade in age difference. Trucks pass by, their diesel fumes attacking my nostrils and the roar of their engines mixing with the wind whipping around the benches. Leaves cling on with all their might as they are torn from the branches they call home, much like a child on their first day of school.

Compare that to the vast emptiness of the field beside them; where the feet of students from years gone by have stepped. Where goals and tries were scored, games won and lost year by year.
And standing on the edge of the field, like a silent guardian of this place, older than any of the buildings; a proud oak tree who's seen both the good and the bad of each year, yet still remains like it always has done. A symbol of time passing and a reminder of the past that is long forgotten.

This was one of those moments where you take in the world around you; the birds calling to one another, the whispering woods on the edge of the field and the distant rumbles of traffic passing by. A strangely secluded college yet it was alive with the sights and sounds of any inner-city school. The students were very vocal; hearty laughter, excited chatter, even the occasional scream could be heard from the driveway. The setting may have changed over time, the students may have come and go but the college kept its charm; a haven of learning and a social scene.

Dreams had been born within its walls, some more successful than others, lives had been altered throughout the years, not always for the better. This was a place that shaped a person one way or another, I didn’t realise it at first when I walked the winding maze of corridors on my first day. However one year on I can safely say that as a person I have grown. Sure it’s been scary, there have been days where my stomach has twisted into a tight knot just thinking about the tasks ahead of me. But I have survived so far. The sunlight that streaks through the windows of each classroom brings comfort to the worried souls, the wind that sucks the life from my body has taken my fear with it.

The bitter chill of winter, with its deathly silence, knocks at the door. Still it stands, just as the oak tree has stood; braving every winter for decades gone by and as it will stand for years to come. The suffocating blanket of snow that may arrive in the New Year will challenge those who inhabit the grounds to battle their way in. Another challenge, another battle, another standard day of a student.