Waxing Philosophical in a Parking Lot

   It's the last day of the school year here at Ye Olde Academy.  All of the students of grades 7,8, 10, and 11 just have the closing ceremony, the farewell ceremony for the departing teachers, and the final homeroom period to bring everything to a close.  The 12th graders graduated last week, so they're long gone.  Grade 9?  Their junior high graduation ceremony is today.  Because of that, the 12th grade staff (including me) are in charge of the South Parking Lot, where the parents attending the ceremony will park.  It's the fourth time this year that I've done it.  The South Parking Lot is just a big, open expanse which is partly paved, partly gravel, and partly dirt.  There are no lines indicating parking spaces, so it's up to us to prevent that mass of automotive humanity from dissolving into a jumbled-up mess.

   Left to their own devices, they undoubtedly will.

   When the crunch hits, things will get tense, but we have a full staff on duty, and they have a plan all worked out.  (That's a benefit of having math and science teachers on hand.)  But for a while at least things will stay quiet...or at least relatively so.  There are actually lots of sounds.

   The South Parking Lot is the extreme southern end of the Ye Olde Academy campus.  Its southern border is a row of (not yet blooming) cherry trees followed by a wire fence.  Behind that is the steep rise of the earthen wall atop which the Oarai-Kashima Line runs.  And behind that?  A solid cloud of trees that marks the edge of the Kashima Shrine forest.  This entire area including our campus was once included in the vast shrine precincts, but the current border was set sometime in the mid 20th century.  Now, standing and looking at that seemingly impenetrable mass of mostly evergreens beyond the rise of the rail line, one can't help but imagine Aragorn looking at Fangorn Forest with dread knowing that Merry and Pippin have gone inside.  I can almost hear Legolas saying, "The trees are angry!"

   Actually, there is plenty of forest on the campus bordering the north side of the parking lot and on the hill across the street.  There is lots of life in those trees, and it is announcing its presence.  All around me, a multitude of tree frogs is singing out its springtime passions.  It's quite a cacophony of croaking.  (A croakophony, perhaps?)  Every once in a while, as if on cue, the entire mass suddenly goes silent.  After a bit, it resumes again.

    The first car arrives.  It's a Lexus hybrid.  I think back to the sci-fi movies and TV shows I grew up with and the funky sounds that their futuristic vehicles made.  Usually it was some kind of buzzing or rapid pulse.  That eerie whine that the real thing makes here in the 21st century seems similar in some ways and darkly different in others.  At any rate, I always find the sound of the modern electric car somehow haunting.

   A train of the Oarai-Kashima Line passes by on its way to Mito.  It's diesel powered rather than electric, and this one is a single-car run.  It's basically a bus on rails.  It doesn't glide the way the electric trains do; the drone of its motor and the clickety-clack of its wheels make plenty of noise for such a small train.  The car itself doesn't sport the normal red, white, and black livery of the Oarai-Kashima Line.  Instead, it's painted in a colorful ocean scheme.  Most of its stops are near the coast, so that makes sense.

   Another car arrives followed soon afterward by another, and then a couple arrive at once.  The automotive tide is starting to come in.  Soon it will turn into a crunch.  The staff in the parking lot have been assigned areas, and now we are calling out to each other as we guide the cars around to the different zones.  "Ms. K, this one's yours!  Ms. I, take this one!  Mr. Y, this one's headed your way!  Kevin, the next one is yours!"  Most of the drivers follow our directions.  Most.  Lines and zones fill up, so we adjust to match.  Somehow we manage to fit them all in.  Just as we're starting to talk about emergency overflow contingencies, it all comes to an end.  The graduation ceremony has already started.  We downsize our staff so they can attend to other responsibilities, and we wait a little more just in case.  No more cars arrive, so the main office staff tell the remaining 12th grade teachers that we're done, and we head back to the school.

   Now I have to find something to do with myself until lunch.  Maybe I'll write a blog post...