Being my first trip to Boston, Harvard  was a MUST. Our visit started with a little wandering around the surrounding Harvard Square…

 

And after we browsed shops, ate macaroons for breakfast and asked ourselves why we didn’t do college this way, we made our way to the hallow grounds…

Entering the gates, I thought a heavenly chorus should be echoing above us as a soundtrack. Crossing the campus threshold, the scene could have been straight out of an ABC Family ‘small-town brainiac kid moves to Harvard’ movie. As if someone pushed play on the ideal, New England, ivy-league experience, the wind started the blow and leafs of every warm, delicious fall color began raining down all around us. It was a cool, sunny day and everywhere you looked, students milled about drinking coffee, talking with friends, and walking to class. It was all very ordinary, except for extraordinary fact that each and every one of these students go to HARVARD. Every last one of them! Being non-Harvarders though, my friend quickly dropped her phone about which I made a mini-commotion, leading two guys nearby asking if everything was okay. “Oh, fine!” we answered. It wasn’t until after we walked away that we realized we should have milked the situation – these were handsome, Harvard men, after all! Dang it – next time.

Fine, I’ll just say it: fall at Harvard is collegiate, ivy-covered perfection.