Joyful Butterflies

"What will you be doing today?" Bill asked as we pulled into the main carpark.

"I've no idea. I know this week we'll be working with the whole of this year's intake so it won't be subject related."

"Some hippy dippy nonsense no doubt."

I just shrugged and led the way to the canteen. Ten minutes until opening. I looked around at the fresh young faces. What was I, a middle-aged woman doing here? I ordered two full English and noticed that most were going for the vegan option. Coffee. I looked at the machine- one of those pod things. I was attempting to open a pod when I watched someone just drop the thing into the slot - woops!

I left Bill in the car with his newspaper and headed down the lane to the large studio at the bottom of campus. I lived not that far away so already knew that the college occupied various buildings on a country estate, partly given over to farming. Cows in a field - nothing special. Many of the students who joined me on the walk thought otherwise.

"What's she on?" The comment was made about a young woman in a floaty dress currently dancing around the cows and whispering in their ears. Rainbow came skipping up to me then.

"What were you saying to the cows?" I asked. Hey, when in Rome and all that.

"I was telling them to be careful not to hurt the butterflies." She skipped ahead. The woman, about my age, who had made the comment, began walking beside me.

"I hope they're not all on drugs."

-*-

The large studio was occupied when we arrived. A fat black and white cow with a full udder and a number of chickens waited for class to begin. The tutor led the cow by the nose while I joined in the shooing of the birds. "I want you all to crouch down, then I want to see you grow into a magnificent tree blowing in the wind."

I found myself next to Rainbow as our branches entwined in the wind. "I was home schooled." I did not think there were drugs involved in her behaviour, she was just a free spirit. It was not long before there was an obvious division in the group. Those of us who joined in enthusiastically and those, mostly older, who stood on the edge of the group reluctant to join in.

At break time there was another divide. Some headed to the canteen whilst I followed Rainbow and her friends to the bar. Over coffee, some alcohol enhanced, some not, we discussed the morning so far. "I don't get why these old foggies come here."

"Jonathon!" Rainbow poked him in the ribs.

"If they're old foggies what does that make me?" I was already feeling insecure.

"You? You're a recycled teenager."

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