This week is the beginning of Michaelmas term at Oxford University, and a plethora of official events mark the occasion. Yesterday Norah and I were out in the city tracking down a book about Lewis and Tolkien at the Central Library and we noticed a difference in the air. Undergraduates are rolling in from around the kingdom and, though the colleges stagger their registration times, the streets are a bit crowded.
There are meetings, trainings, introductory library tours, and dinners going on at Keble College this week. Alex has managed to procure his white bow tie for next Saturday’s official matriculation ceremonies, where he is required to appear subfusc. I’m hoping to attend and take a little C. S. Lewis pilgrimage afterwards, revisiting Magdalen College where Lewis taught and the pub where he and Tolkien and the other Inklings had their meetings. Being just weeks from having the baby, I can’t wander too far afield just yet, so we are plotting excursions around Oxford.
There is something deeply satisfying about seeing Alex in his academic regalia. (I mean besides the fact that he has to wear a white satin bow tie, which is, in itself, deeply satisfying…) We have dreamt together about his attending a university like Oxford for about seven years. Though the task of doing so now looms largely ahead, there’s no where else we’d rather be.