The Cross Campus

If asked which place I like the best, I would definitely say "The Cross Campus". You can hardly not fall in love with this place after staying there for one day. 
 

The Cross Campus is covered in green grasses. I lie on the grass to take a little nap, or lean on a tree, reading A Song of Ice and Fire. The grass feels like a soft bed and smells so fragrant that I can`t help remembering my mother`s sweet perfume. There are not many trees, but they are all thick and bushy. Sunshine pours down though the gaps between leaves, decorating the grass with sparkling patterns. The sky looks as clean as crystal through layers and layers of leaves. My mind wanders up into the fresh air. 

Sometimes, I can spot some squirrels climbing down from the tree, running on the grass, looking for food. They seem not afraid of me at all. So I can watch them closely. It`s so funny to see them holding a nut, chewing quickly, their small black eyes unmoved. Birds are always singing in the trees, close to me, far away, and close to me again. Every few minutes, a group of students would cross the grass, chatting, singing, laughing… They have different hairstyles, different colors of legs, and different kinds of shoes. I want to join them and know what they are talking about, because they are always full of energy and enthusiasm. 

Around the Cross Campus are architectures with various western styles, each of which has a gate to a college of Yale. All of them are old buildings with mysterious history, but they have been protected well. The majestic building in the far distance which looks like a cathedral is the famous Sterling Memorial Library. Every time I look at it, I think I have dropped into wonderland and everything is just a fairy tale. I love this wonderland and I don`t want to come back to my real life. 

As the sun sets and night comes, everything gets darker and darker. Now, some boys would play football on the ground. The library is profiled against the dark blue sky, just like the Hogwarts Castle, surrounded by dark magic. I stare at the building, imagine that some witches and wizards are flying there on brooms. The streetlights have already lit up, squirrels sleep, no one on the road. What a peaceful midsummer night`s dream!

Next month, I will have to say good bye to this land of poetry. I will leave her my history, and she will return me her beautiful story.