Walking through campus, one may enjoy Biola while it is experiencing "the freshness of Spring," as Luke, age 25, calls it. The clacking of sandals pounds the cold asphalt as students hustle off to classes. While the asphalt is cold, the warm rays of sun soak into one's very core, providing a very mild temperature. The wind is just slightly breezing by, enough to blow small strands of hair lightly across one's face.
Luke noticed the savory aroma of the greenery of Biola, while I just noticed the smell of food radiating from the cafeteria. Granted, there are greenish brown tress that blanketed me in shade overhead, and the smell of fresh cut grass, but I was locked in on the incense of that meal that I was wishing awaited me in the Caf.
While I sat there pondering this, the sounds of Biola struck me. The spinning and clicking of bikes tires across the ground can be heard over the relaxing, rushing sound of Flour Fountain and the chirping of birds. Conversations can be overheard all the way across Sutherland Way, but as I sat there with stomach growling, all I could hear was the sound of construction trucks beeping incessantly in the background. That is what it is like to be on Biola on March 15, 2011.
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