When I was in college, there was only one place on campus that guaranteed that I would get any work done: the tiny science library. As a history student, it was technically a useless spot, except for the fact that it felt like a place where important work should be accomplished: marble columns, towering ceilings, names of famous intellectuals intimidatingly carved along the walls, rows of softly lit wooden tables, and the obviously necessary illuminated oversized globe. I couldn't help but get things done.
When faced with a major project this week, I wandered down to visit a friend who works at the University of Chicago in the hopes of discovering a space that would have a similar effect.
The Reynolds Club was just what I needed.
The rest of the campus, minus the somewhat terrifying library, is equally as lovely. I enjoyed exploring the grounds a bit, it felt like a completely different world -- say, Oxford? Ivy and tunnels and heavy wooden doors.
Ivy, ivy, ivy. Riveting stuff.
The above shot is actually of a greenish little pond. Eventually I ended up surrounded by lazy turtles, chirping birds, twitchy squirrels, and grazing rabbits. I've clearly been reading far too much fantasy, between Lev Grossman's "The Magicians" and the Harry Potter books, as I half expected one of them to start a conversation or attempt to dress me. It was too eerily idyllic.
Waiting calmly for the inevitable bird attack.
In the interest of full discloser, the day wasn't quite all work.
Again in the interest of full disclosure: immediately after this picture was snapped, I got my shoe half stuck in the tire and ended up in a decidedly unlady-like heap. This is why I'm not allowed outdoors. And why I'm usually wearing running shorts underneath my dresses.