While sitting on the bench with the beaming sun and brisk wind blowing through the trees, I couldn’t help but reflect on my time in highschool. I found myself next to the senior courtyard. I never paid much attention to the landscaping of the school. I really only went outside to occasionally eat lunch or in between classes rushing to the other side of the school.

    My eyes were drawn to the trees, I noticed a few leaves who changed their color and laid on the grass. Fall was coming. With the crisp yet warm air, I could feel that cold weather would soon approach. Then would come winter, spring, and summer, full cycle. With each season, my senior year would come closer to a close.

     Sitting in the senior courtyard, I could only think about my freshman year. I remember coming across the courtyard, coveting the seniors privilege of sitting outside. Yet, as a senior I’ve only took up the opportunity a few times.

     Instead I choose to sit by rows of bookshelves, full of different books, different covers, different stories. Each story unique to the author. Similar to the leaves on a tree, or a petal on a flower, each with special distinctions.

     I still remember walking down the 300 hallway to my first class of my freshman year. At that point it was a plain hallway. There was not much to it besides the maroon lockers on one side, and a white wall on the other. Today it is hard not to be drawn to the colorful hallway, with the newest mural embodying the different music classes offered.

     When the mural first began the curious blue tape covered an outline of a drawing. Each day a new color was added to the wall that I couldn’t help but notice, a vibrant red which led to an orange. I can’t help but wonder what the mural will look like completed. Will I be there to see the finished creation, or will I have graduated?

     The lobby, showcasing trophies and different flags, once seemed immense now feels small with crowds of student socializing before class. Different conversations filling the room, yet with the sound of a bell they disperse.

     While passing different classrooms, I watched as some students learned, others in study hall had their eyes glued to the Netflix show in front of them. The school once felt like a maze, with each turn causing more confusion than the next. Now I know the hallways effortlessly, with little trouble.

     For three years I took the overcrowded buses and waited patiently to get off at my stop. I’d watch the chaos in the parking lot from a distance. Now, I was driving in the traffic. Strategically trying to maneuver my way out of the lot in hopes to leave before the buses.

     Sitting by the senior courtyard, a place I now had access to opened my eyes to all the change going on around me. The leaves are beginning to drop soon it would no longer be summer. With the changing of the seasons, and the changing of my perspective of high school, it’s time to face fall.