A Trace of autumn drifts through the air in the early hours of the morning. The cool, crisp breeze takes me back to the fall of my plebe year and the anticipation I felt as Plebe Parent Weekend approached. Recollections of untroubled and cheerful days replace the memories of stress and anxiety that were the reality of my world. As time passes I am left remembering only the good times. My mind twists even the bad experiences into ones that I can look back on and fondly remember, for I can not help but think of the good that either came out of them, or the pleasant memories that coincided with that period. For some things it takes years for that to happen, but it always does happen. My memories bring me joy, not pain.