I find most of my Burnaby campus joy in myopic fashion. The AQ’s single-paned windows and their accompanying “be heat aware” posters bring me joy. It’s here where the optimism of an architectural vision long-gone meets the cost-cutting necessities of this moment. I chuckle.
I don’t find joy in sitting for hours in heat-(in)efficient bodily discomfort (my hands sweat, and I take notes with a pen and a notebook). However, breaks from this allow me to walk outside and breathe in cold air — a joy in relation to the prior discomfort.
Multiple cold breaths were taken on the northern steps of the fourth floor AQ, greeting a juvenile great blue heron who seemed to be navigating the campus “reflecting pond” as if it were any of Burnaby’s carp-inhabited waters. It seemed, to me, too small to catch any of our ornamental alumni, poking around the pond’s edge with discomfort. I realized then that I can’t attest to the heron’s emotional state.
I reminded myself to get a croissant at Renaissance, maybe breathe some more cold air. Even those who carry themselves with over 6 feet of flight-optimized wingspan navigate the campus’ concrete stratum with a snack.
