Peep Madness.
As I walked down College Street on my way to lab this past Monday, I noticed that there was something bright pink and round wedged into the branches of one of the leafless dogwoods that line the wall by Phelps Gate. A few paces further and I realized that this blob was actually a plastic Easter egg, most likely leftover from the community Easter egg hunt that had taken place the day before. Object identified, existence explained, I headed towards lab without a second thought.
On Tuesday, as I trucked across campus to the jammin' tunes of Death Cab for Cutie on my iPod, I discovered that the grove of dogwoods was now home to two Easter eggs - the pink one having been joined by a blue one similarly propped in the branches high above the passersby. I briefly regretted having left home without my camera, since random Easter eggery amidst dark, wintery tree branches might make for an interesting picture (and perhaps blog entery, too...)
Wednesday and Thursday passed without incident, the two eggs remaining but no others joining them in their perches above the sidewalk.
As I left my house this morning, I frowned as I realized that a) it was much colder than I'd antipated and, therefore, b) I had far less clothing on than would be required to make my hike to school a comfortable experience. Giving into my love of wallowing in self-pity, I took off walking without going back for an extra layer. When my iPod's battery died by the end of the second block, leaving me to walk with nothing by cold wind in my ears, I allowed myself to settle into a deep funk, complete with furrowed brow and stomping stride as I made my way down Prospect Street.
Passing Battell Chapel, I started looking for the Easter eggs, hoping that they might have lasted long enough to perk me up on my distinctly cranky Friday. No dice. The dogwoods were back to their usual wintery, unadorned state, spreading their bare branches over hundreds of daffodil shoots that simply refuse to bloom.
Without the Easter eggs to focus me on my surroundings, my mind wondered to the items on today's lab To Do list. But somewhere in the middle of mentally listing things to buy at the stock room and making a Note To Self to finally talk to Kim about 2D gels, I realized that just up ahead, balanced carefully on a parking meter was a yellow marshmellow peep. Not the original - not the chick peep - but the special bunny rabbit marshmellow peep made just for Easter.
"Weird," thought I, cranky and not willing to be amused by the random and belated Easter objects accumulating on my one mile walk to work.
When I passed the second peep about 30 feet further on, sitting just on top of a guard rail, I couldn't help but slow down a little and smile. Peeps 3, 4 and 5 were each placed well apart over the next few block, on top of a mail box, an emergency call box and a park bench. Peep #6 had not been able to keep steady on top of its box hedge and was now melting quietly in the salty slush on the sidewalk.
By peep #7 (tucked under the windshield wiper of a parked car), I was giggling uncontrollably.
Arriving at my destination, I discovered the eighth (and final) peep sitting confidently atop the card reader at the back door to the Boyer Center. I cannot express in words how pleased I was to discover that the person who took the time to carefully place marshmellow rabbits along the streets of New Haven actually works in my building.
And everyone says scientists are so boring...
On Tuesday, as I trucked across campus to the jammin' tunes of Death Cab for Cutie on my iPod, I discovered that the grove of dogwoods was now home to two Easter eggs - the pink one having been joined by a blue one similarly propped in the branches high above the passersby. I briefly regretted having left home without my camera, since random Easter eggery amidst dark, wintery tree branches might make for an interesting picture (and perhaps blog entery, too...)
Wednesday and Thursday passed without incident, the two eggs remaining but no others joining them in their perches above the sidewalk.
As I left my house this morning, I frowned as I realized that a) it was much colder than I'd antipated and, therefore, b) I had far less clothing on than would be required to make my hike to school a comfortable experience. Giving into my love of wallowing in self-pity, I took off walking without going back for an extra layer. When my iPod's battery died by the end of the second block, leaving me to walk with nothing by cold wind in my ears, I allowed myself to settle into a deep funk, complete with furrowed brow and stomping stride as I made my way down Prospect Street.
Passing Battell Chapel, I started looking for the Easter eggs, hoping that they might have lasted long enough to perk me up on my distinctly cranky Friday. No dice. The dogwoods were back to their usual wintery, unadorned state, spreading their bare branches over hundreds of daffodil shoots that simply refuse to bloom.
Without the Easter eggs to focus me on my surroundings, my mind wondered to the items on today's lab To Do list. But somewhere in the middle of mentally listing things to buy at the stock room and making a Note To Self to finally talk to Kim about 2D gels, I realized that just up ahead, balanced carefully on a parking meter was a yellow marshmellow peep. Not the original - not the chick peep - but the special bunny rabbit marshmellow peep made just for Easter.
"Weird," thought I, cranky and not willing to be amused by the random and belated Easter objects accumulating on my one mile walk to work.
When I passed the second peep about 30 feet further on, sitting just on top of a guard rail, I couldn't help but slow down a little and smile. Peeps 3, 4 and 5 were each placed well apart over the next few block, on top of a mail box, an emergency call box and a park bench. Peep #6 had not been able to keep steady on top of its box hedge and was now melting quietly in the salty slush on the sidewalk.
By peep #7 (tucked under the windshield wiper of a parked car), I was giggling uncontrollably.
Arriving at my destination, I discovered the eighth (and final) peep sitting confidently atop the card reader at the back door to the Boyer Center. I cannot express in words how pleased I was to discover that the person who took the time to carefully place marshmellow rabbits along the streets of New Haven actually works in my building.
And everyone says scientists are so boring...
posted by Eva Marie at 6:50 PM
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