The second stop on our trip was the old fortified city of Saint Malo. Before our bus even stopped we were driven past dock after dock of sailboats and fishing vessels and the smell of salt and old seaweed had managed to go through the vent system.
It was wonderful.
When we finally made it into the city and around the wall, I ended up being separated from the tour guide prematurely when a sea gull I was taking a picture of started talking to me. By the time a second gull joined in and I was done taking pictures the tour guide was long gone. So, instead of doing the reasonable thing and following after her, I decided to walk down along the beach with 2 of my roommates - the joy of looking into the tide pools replaced the joy of the ramparts.
And so we spent an hour walking the beach, making our way over stones and exposed seaweed. Occasionally we would poke our hands into the tide pools to feel the delicate little arms of anemones or gather up a baby crab. It was an amazing experience that somehow reawakened that childhood dream of being a marine biologist - the one that ultimately died when I realized that people wanted only to kill Jaws and the fight for funding in marine biology would likely preclude me from any stable career.
And then I wondered if I'd somehow taken a wrong step along the way. Or many.
Looking back at my entire college career it seems like I've made nothing but change after change once I realize the track I'm on is really not what I want. Even now I feel that and I wonder whether any of my majors will mean anything in a year once their printed on paper and forgotten in the back of a closet. Does it matter that I can analyze English literature, talk in French, or discuss gender norms? Not likely.
It's a sad realization, this. Even sadder to realize that I would change it all for the opportunity to live a life near the ocean and be able to look into tide pools for starfish and anemones...
It was wonderful.
When we finally made it into the city and around the wall, I ended up being separated from the tour guide prematurely when a sea gull I was taking a picture of started talking to me. By the time a second gull joined in and I was done taking pictures the tour guide was long gone. So, instead of doing the reasonable thing and following after her, I decided to walk down along the beach with 2 of my roommates - the joy of looking into the tide pools replaced the joy of the ramparts.
And so we spent an hour walking the beach, making our way over stones and exposed seaweed. Occasionally we would poke our hands into the tide pools to feel the delicate little arms of anemones or gather up a baby crab. It was an amazing experience that somehow reawakened that childhood dream of being a marine biologist - the one that ultimately died when I realized that people wanted only to kill Jaws and the fight for funding in marine biology would likely preclude me from any stable career.
And then I wondered if I'd somehow taken a wrong step along the way. Or many.
Looking back at my entire college career it seems like I've made nothing but change after change once I realize the track I'm on is really not what I want. Even now I feel that and I wonder whether any of my majors will mean anything in a year once their printed on paper and forgotten in the back of a closet. Does it matter that I can analyze English literature, talk in French, or discuss gender norms? Not likely.
It's a sad realization, this. Even sadder to realize that I would change it all for the opportunity to live a life near the ocean and be able to look into tide pools for starfish and anemones...
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