A late night run for batteries, before the carts were collected and corralled.

Maybe they’re waiting on a loan to finish the project, maybe the bank is doing partial repos.

It’s what we prepare them for, that day we call their names and they parade across the stage with family and friends watching in support. Before and after, we faculty track down our kids, wanting to make sure they know how proud we are, too.

If you look closely, you’ll see that one of my kids shooting back and, over the shoulder of the one second from the right, the tell-tale camera strap – always a good sign.

As the semester winds down, faculty across campus start collecting and sorting final projects. Sometimes, in the bowling alley.

An early morning, mist still on the windshields of cars that were left overnight in the parking lot and a Holy Bible waits to be read. Further on, the morning light hits the barren trees aside the building.

The plaza I walk through every day was marked up earlier in the semester and I’ve been waiting for … anything … to happen.

They may have been around a long time, but they don’t stay open on Sundays.