Descriptscene 481 Main Street

Hiking to a professor’s office hours, generally in the freezing cold morning air, is always frustrating.Yet the excitement is overwhelming on the mornings that I visit my English professor’s office, located in the Classics and Religion building. The front of the building appears to be humble, with a simple porch and a squat set of somewhat creaky stairs. Even the front door is frustratingly difficult to handle. Once inside, it is obvious that the fight was completely and utterly worth it. The entire place teeters with the smell of old house, reminding one of Christmas or the essence of a dusty book that has been perched on a shelf for all eternity. Once regaining a sense of smell after the initial entry, the hallways on either side of the two front doors are generally empty. The entire building is as peaceful as it is here.After the hallways, I notice the stairs. They are nicked wooden steps that come from another age, possibly right after Victorian England. Each step feels like one could fall through to the basement, yet I always take comfort in the large window that greets me at the first bend in the stairs.Even if it is raining or snowing outside, the window gives only the slightest hint of the chill, the house a delicate but steadfast shelter from the wind and the cold.My English professor’s office is at the top of the two flights of stairs, each one conveniently providing a landing and a window. The second floor always has a class happening off to the right as one walks down the first corridor to reach the second flight of stairs. This particular classroom is a bookshelf, and everyone in it seems like they are basking in the wooden comfort and the ancient knowledge that have been steeped into each board. The final floor, the third floor, is tucked into the top of the building. Offices clustered around the edges of it, fighting to get farther away from the edge, the winter chill or the sum?mer heat. A bench is placed precariously in the hallway, and one can almost see it begging not to be tripped over. Even so, this bench does its job well and is comfortable, at least in a hard bench sort of way.From door to bench, the house is a silent beauty, lying amongst the trees and the snow; it’s a little reminder of the comforts of home.