Sinking into a comfy reading chair in Harper Library’s sunlit Grand Reading Room, propping your feet onto the matching ottoman, and pulling out a book (for effect) as you drift off for a late-afternoon nap.

Catching a glimpse of the spring ducklings in Botany Pond, heart bulging with familial pride and protectiveness.

Hearing the bagpipes wail louder as the Convocation procession makes its way toward the Main Quad.

Scanning the Medici bakery shelves in the morning, when they’re stocked full of fresh, warm, flaky, buttery pastries.

Smelling the aroma in the dark Divinity School coffee shop, the promise of a caffeine boost to get you through one more chapter or verse.

Feeling the cold swipe at your cheeks during your brisk walk to the Reynolds Club (is it always this far?), keeping your head down to avoid the wind.

Feeling the grass under your feet on the first nice day of the year, when the whole world decides to eat their lunch, toss a Frisbee, or take a nap alfresco.

Listening to the blended melodies of strings and rhythmic footfalls coming from every which way during Folk Fest at Ida Noyes.

Slurping a creamy, mint-chip, dollar Shake Day shake, all the better after an hour’s wait at the C-Shop.

Biting into a sweet yet savory gooey-cheese stuffed pizza at Edwardo’s.

Smelling the foul smashed seeds fallen from the gingko trees along Ellis Avenue.

Breathing in old leather, cloth, paper, glue, and ink in the Reg stacks, looking for one text but finding something different, bringing it to a carrel for just a moment ... or two.

We could go on, but we’d rather let you. What sensory memories take you back to campus? Leave a comment and let us know.