“Energy moves in cycles, circles, spirals, vortexes, whirls, pulsations, waves, and rhythms—rarely if ever in simple straight lines.”  — Starhawk; American writer, activist, pagan, ecofeminist.

When the sun is finally out in Corvallis after a pitiless winter, sometimes you just have to ramble. That’s what I told myself when my alarm sounded at 7:45 AM on Saturday, April 29th. Maybe if you’re used to an 8-5 work schedule then that doesn’t sound too early, but for a grad student who is on her last legs by Friday of each week, a 7:45 AM wakeup call on a Saturday is a true commitment.

And I had committed. I was registered for the Spring Campus Ramble hosted by fellow EAH student Jill Sisson and her partner Cub Kahn, and I planned to show up. This was the 7th ramble for Jill and Cub, but it was my first.  The Ramble is a morning of walking to different locations on campus and observing our surroundings through writing, photography, or both. The rambles are conducted seasonally as a way to welcome the changes taking place in our valley. The theme for this ramble was “spiral,” though we were free to let our minds wander in and out of that lens.

We met our group at the Beanery at 9:00 and then headed out for our ramble. Our group was small, though we were told that it was a lovely size for a ramble. My companions for the morning were Dorothy, Kent, Jill, Cub, and Paul and Charlotte (my parents, visiting for the weekend).

I have to admit that I can be a little snobby when it comes to campus “tours.” This is my fifth year at OSU, and (in a past life, it seems) I was once a tour guide for new students and other campus visitors. I was expecting to look at campus through a new lens on the Ramble, but I didn’t think I’d also be rambling to spots where I had never been.

Right away, I realized I was wrong. Our first stop was outside the Hallie E. Ford Center, where a reflective metal sculpture stands, smoothly twisted. At each stop one of us took a piece of paper from Jill’s hand and read a spiral-related quote. At our first stop, my dad plucked from the mix and read:

“The spiral is a spiritualized circle. In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious; it has been set free.” 
 — Vladimir Nabokov (1899-1977), Russian-American novelist and entomologist.

Then we were set free to ramble around the spiral sculpture and linger in the vicinity of building, observing the many plants and human-made structures surrounding us. We could hear birds, and on a few occasions during our morning, flocks of geese flew overhead.

I prefer, usually, to sit on the ground. So I hunkered down on the cement in front of the playground, and I saw this:

And then I wrote this:

I’m following the sun spots (this time of year you have to), and I swear I can hear the birds better when I’m sitting in the sun. Tiny handprints are pressed into the cold morning cement next to the playground, just outside the gate. It’s as if five children practiced their handstands one day as they waited for a tall person with keys to unlock the gate.

This fence. It’s short, because I’m an adult, and it’s linked together in spirals that hint at what’s inside: a playground of twisted metal. That corkscrew thing that some playground designer made when the fire pole got boring. Curvy springs holding up a bouncy-disc-thing that doesn’t look very safe (but boy does it look fun!), and I picture the five handstand children, their palms gray and glistening with gritty cement, dancing about in circles around the playground the moment that gate swings open.

It’s funny how I’ve fixated on the ugly wire fence with the gate when all the while in my sunspot there were also two other fences: the rhododendrons and the roses. They run parallel to the ugly fence and form a much more convincing barrier. Rows of thorns and pink, soft flowers that only a monster would dare to trample.

And yet someone felt a wire fence was imperative, as if the roses and the rhodies could not be trusted. “We better build a fence,” someone must have said. “For good measure. To cover our bases. To keep the kids in. To keep the kids out.”

And now I will summarize the remainder of our ramble with a few photos…

The azaleas near the Women’s Building were putting on quite a show as we walked to our next stop. Photo by Lucia Hadella.
My dad had seen a baseball game at Goss Stadium the night before (Beavs won!), and he got a kick out of photographing images around the stadium. When a pitcher winds up and releases, is that a spiral? Photo by Paul Hadella.
Can you imagine carrying the weight of the moon on your shoulders? These statues stand in the green sapce near the INTO building on the south side of campus. Photo by Lucia Hadella.
Electric fungi in the INTO courtyard. Photo by Lucia Hadella.
Have you seen these peculiar figures in the Snell Hall courtyard?I hadn’t! Photo by Lucia Hadella.
This giant sequoia just keeps spiraling on and on. Photo by Lucia Hadella.
Although we left the Ramble a little early to head to the Saturday Market, my parents and I could not stop taking pictures of the beauty surrounding us, and we were seeing spirals for the rest of the day. Photo by Lucia Hadella.
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