One Saturday morning at Lake Alice

Cycling to breakfast Saturday morning I cut through campus. The sun was low enough behind me that glancing into my helmet’s rear view mirror was blinding.

One does not simply ride past Lake Alice and the Baugman Center without stopping to linger for art least a heartbeat or two.

Especially on an early Saturday morning at the beginning of Spring Break. When it seemed as though I had the campus all to myself.

There is something arresting, even seductive, about the play of light and reflection in ripples on water. Especially when an early morning sun sets the Spanish Moss all aglow.

Looking up there is an explosion of red blossoms. Look down and giant trees stare back up at you from a liquid mirror.

And, yes, the chapel is equally arresting.

It’s an odd structure, really, for all its reflective beauty. There is something about its tall narrowness that seems a bit gangly. Out of kilter. Shouldn’t there be more, I dunno, girth to it?

But of course the real beauty of this structure is that it is of a piece with Alice.

It is most revealing in its facets and reflections.

As though Alice and the chapel were one and the same.

And then I rode on.

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