I usually enjoyed walking through the University in the early spring, especially during a warm, weekend dusk. I liked the sight of brown ivy starting to green. I liked the annual novelty of watching the sun set later and later. The true novelty, though, was being at a place in life where I'd even notice those things. Not too long ago, all I'd notice were the building signs, with the names of weathered, century-old stone buildings written in an anemic twenty-first century font. It struck me as hypocritical, or at the very least, tacky.