MISCELLANEOUS
Tage. 7, T7fie SUetheia
Cavalier Spotlight
By Anita Allen
Staff Writer
Afreshmanf rom Mt. Airy
adds vitality to the Lady
Cavaliers’ Volleyball Team.
Traci Haynes “Is a very tena
cious player who always
gives 100%. Her attitude is
positive and her performance
has been outstanding. We
are looking forward to her
playing for the next three
years," reveals Coach Fox.
Traci attended North
Surry High School in Mt. Airy,
North Carolina. “I was active
in the FCA, pep club, French
Club, DECA and SGA.” A
well-rounded athlete, Traci
was also on the basketball
and softball teams. “I am
honored to be playing for M-
AC and pleased to be a part
of this team,” says Traci.
Lady Cav. Traci Haynes
Apart from hercollegiate
activities, Traci says: “I en
joy waterskiing, spending
time with friends and read
ing the Bible. I love reading
the Bible; it builds me up
spiritually, and this makes
me a better person.”
Lake Susan
Cont. from Page 2
on the trees and, instead, con
centrate on the cursed dead ones
below our feet that we’ll soon
find ourselves raking.
I really don’t mind leaves
except when they start to rot
and, for days, you wander
around aimlessly in search of
the dead cat or possum that’s
responsible.
The swans at Lake Susan
are somewhat bewildered this
time of year as well. They’ve
amazingly survived another
conference season of both rid
ers and rock throwers. Spring,
they say, does strange things to
people, but Autumn is just as
guilty. The swans swim about
near the edge of the lake, listen
ing to gossip that comes from
the shore: Conference parents
swearing they ’ 11 never bring the
kids again, couples on one side
of the lake who’ve just begun
and are starey-eyed. While on
the other shore a couple argues
and she loudly states that they
are through. They stamp off in
opposite directions. The swans
just look at each other and shake
their heads.
Autumn is a funny season.
A transitional season. Things
beginning, other things ending.
Like the leaves who’ve finally
mustered the strength and cour
age to take a deep breath, turn a
brilliant shade of Autumn, and
then fall silently to the ground-
dead. But they’re not really
dead, you see. I know this
because I hear them laughing
as I rake them into piles in my
backyard. They laugh because
they see that, just behind me
(where I’ve tediously raked)
dozens of their friends have j ust
blown in for a visit. It’s a mu
tiny.
God’s People Fellowship In Worship
zi:aK
FELtOWSHIP
SUNDAY MORNINGS
9:45
BCC LOUNGE
What amazes me the most
about the leaves this time of
year isn’t their color at all. It’s
the way they fall like mutant
snow flakes to the ground all at
once, sticking their tongues out
at the rhododendron on the way
down. After all, people don’t
drive for miles around to see
the rhododendron in October.
Another thing that amazes
me is the way they dance hap
pily across the streets in short
quick hops like a scene from
Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.
You hear them laughing then
too. Hundreds of them. Al
ways laughing.
The leaves become a vital
part of the Black Mountain
conversation in October. Folks
don’t just talk of the weather.
Now they talk of the leaves and
how folks will be coming to see
‘em and how they’ll be hunting
their rakes when it’s all over.
We’re left like the New Year’s
Eve clean-up crew to sweep up
confetti from the streets of New
York’s Times Square. It’s
worth it though, to hear the
sound of laughter from the
leaves. They won’t be around
much longer. They deserve to
laugh. Life is good in Mon
treal, where the locals are
friendly, the professors con
cerned, and the students ambi
tious.