For some in the education biz, mid-August is a time of difficult emotions: anxiety, denial, despair. A calendar becomes a cruel thing, measuring the few days of precious remaining freedom and peace. For someone with a camera and a story to write, the opposite is true; summer is a long, vacuous term... the campus bereft of adolescent life (visiting scientists are unphotogenic).
Below, ninth graders slap a puck as afternoon dusk falls over icy Proctor Pond:
The pond is choked with lilies today:
Here's the ski racing team stretching on Carr Field before an early winter run:
And here's Carr Field today:
