Remembering ignorance

There is something very strange about being a new place - a sense of disorientation that leaves the wanderer in a state of uneasy awareness. Whenever I first step onto a college campus I have an intense moment of illumination when my visual surroundings attempt to correlate with the map I have in my head and there is a strange sensation of the knowledge settling in. We see so much more when are are new, when we are strangers, transient and curious. How many times did I take the bus down to the Loop before I noticed the giant red building? The very first times I went I was focused on the Lakefront, and my later familiarity prevented me from doing more than giving the skyline a cursory examination. But after I had been gone for a few weeks and not downtown for months I suddenly noticed the imposing edifice, painted a red shocking against the dull mirrored greys of the other buildings. I am again in the situation of newness, although this is the feeling of vague remembrance of a place - where you perk up every few blocks at the sight of a name or a familiar courtyard - and I sincerely hope that this time I will not lose my rapt exploration as time passes, although I suspect is it a pattern that is lost in the interminable tramp of the daily routine. If only we could maintain the wonder of ignorance throughout the acquisition of knowledge.

(Note: I am very computer-less so this will have to count for today and yesterday)