here is a lot to be said for blind positivity. On a good day, I’m a manifester, a big believer in my ability to speak things into existence. During my English A-Level, I had complete confidence that the crystals hidden in my bra would provide enough luck to snag me an A*. Today, I put great faith in words, relying on the same ‘I can do it’ that gets Olympic athletes across the finish line, to help me through difficult situations.
I’m now in my fourth year, and as such, must grapple with the reality of my Oxford days drawing to a close. Granted, this is something that every student must contend with, and I watched on as most of my friends bade a fond farewell to this city where our friendships began when they graduated last summer. Yet there is something about the fourth year that I’m certain makes the final year even more strange: a sense of something already lost, of living in a moment that has already passed.
Now, having exhausted myself with these relentless pursuits, the job has been passed on to a new bright-eyed Cupid, and in my retirement I’ve become fondly reflective, and decided to curate my insights into this list:
'Places are not the same by night. They are transformed. Shapes and forms take on different sizes, colours and shades. Perspective becomes blurred, sounds sharper'
'There’s a wonderful feeling of freedom that comes from being in the water, especially here where it is deep enough to kick your legs out without touching river-bed'
'In such a forest there is of course much more than visual pleasure; there’s the sound of wind bending and creaking age-old timber, or the whiff of damp leaves, the smell of air, damp, imbued with life.'
'Port Meadow is steeped in myth; it’s the unploughed landscape, the land earned from resisting the Danes, a sacred spot where the Freemen graze their cattle'