The Campus

I am a college student.  The thought seems incredibly odd because this is not how I pictured my college experience. Rather, this was my idealized daydream of a college; I had pictured it being much harder to learn to love it here:

 “The romantic notion of a college in nature, removed from the corrupting forces of the city, became an American ideal.."

Turner says that in his Campus article, and it really seems to stick here.  I see a lot of what a college looks like in the movies; it's an ideal that doesn't really exist, a place detached from "the real world".  There is a surreal aspect, a dreamy atmosphere, leaves float gently to the ground, time seems to slow for gorgeous fall days, the clouds go by, music rings out everywhere. 

This ideal seems idyll (and puns are punny).  By detaching and creating this college sanctuary, only now have I really connected with anything.  I didn't like where I grew up, but I didn't mind it either.  This is the only time that I feel a real loyalty towards a place.  In this miniature city, it seems like I've found somewhere to miss when I leave it.  Not just for the people nor the food, but the atmosphere...it's a romantic notion that I can't describe, an abstract concept that I've attached too.  Just like many American values, it's different for everyone, but that doesn't meant that it doesn't evoke something.