Sunday was our last day of Field School. The whole day felt rather surreal to me for a few reasons. First, many of my thoughts were occupied just with the idea that this was all coming to an end. Also, thought, our location felt odd to me. Being in Colorado, I felt so close to Boulder, so close to the end. It’s times like this where I become incredibly distanced from the task at hand, for its impending end drains it of its reality. It no longer is the only event, the only reality. Suddenly I become viscerally aware that there is another world outside of the one I’ve been living in the past recent time. It’s an incredibly static flotation of experience, wherein one watches things go by while you just float with them, watching them as they carry you. That’s my poetic memory of what happened Sunday, at least. What actually happened probably wasn’t nearly so. That’s what’s so interesting about reality as memory.