Hyde 1Ashley HydeJessica FrogleyEnglish 201010, December, 2011Observation Paper Another Day at Salt Lake Community My morning class just got out, I grab a quick coffee refill at the South Side Cafe andsnatch a seat outside to do homework for the rest of the afternoon before work. The sun has justcome completely over the graceful Wasatch Mountains. It hits the highest part of the trees, withhalf of the tree still in the cold shade. The colors are still bright on the flowers that boarder thestairs going into the college. The trees are changing from green to red; you can tell that fall hasbegun in Utah. I sit on the grass at the East Side entrance to the school; next to chain link fence so I donot bother anyone with my cigarette. The grass is still wet from frost last night. I can tell after Isit because my butt becomes all wet; yuck cold soggy bottom. I grab my jacket to sit on. Thegrass is much more comfortable for homework to sit on then the cold concrete. My body getswarmer the longer I sit with the sun at my back. The air is fresh and crisp; I love the smell of anew day. Students walk by to and from class constantly. Some stop to talk in passing to rehashtheir class time from the day before. A young lady complains to a friend about her assignmentand the professor she is dealing with, “ I just wish she wasn’t such a bitch all the time” she saysto her friend. “After all it is a Dance and Culture class and we don’t dance” the other girl replies.
Hyde 2A boy carries a backpack on his back and two large black bags in each hand. They look likeheavy instrument cases. He rushes to the door but none of the student surrounding the doorshold them open for him. Behind me construction sounds permeate through the school. Construction has beengoing on at this campus for a few semesters now it seems. There is a unchanging sound of a jackhammer that rings through my body. I hurts my head and disrupts my though process on morethan one occurrence. The construction workers, or the gazers I call them, seem small from thisview. It must be all the layers they are wearing for the fall season. It is the usual constructionworker profile, a hard hat, a big orange hooded sweatshirts and the dirty old jeans. They trompthrough the mud like cattle, talking amongst themselves over the sounds of the jackhammer. Down the way, the water fall feature is still running. I am surprised by this because it hasbeen so cold at night. It must not be freezing down here in Salt Lake at night. The feature makesa noticeable sound of a stream that put my mind at ease when I sit with my eyes closed. Across the way, I see a large sign that reads “Campus Book Store” on the building thatonce was a mechanic shop. It still smells of fumes when you go in there; makes me sick. Theoutside of the ‘book store’ is painted for the Halloween season. Paintings of ghoulish creatureand red bloody hand prints cover the windows like something horrific happened inside. The onlything that is horrific is the price of course books every semester. A breeze has kicked in and it causes some leafs to fall. I sip my pumpkin spice coffee tokeep my insides warm, still with the sun at my back. The jack hammer seems to be gettinglouder and louder the longer I sit here. I become frustrated with the fact that students have to
Hyde 3hear this day in and day out while in class. My skin tightens up and I have the urge to get up andwalk away.