Though over a dozen faculty parking spaces will be lost due to the construction of the new Biobehavioral Health Building, as will the architectural jewel that is the bridge between Henderson and Henderson South, today I choose to reflect on the closure of the HUB lawn for the next four years.

The construction rigs are already audible; the HUB lawn is slowly being put to death, and will first disappear in parts. Over a little stretch of time it will cease to exist.

It is with heavy hearts that we lay the HUB lawn to rest in these closing weeks of September. We remember it fondly as a dear friend to all girls who congregated there to don bikinis and sun themselves, as well as to those boys who loved to watch them do so. We remember the perpetually browning lush, green grass that served as a haven for frisbee games, and aspiring quarterbacks practicing throwing a tight, perfect spiral.

The lawn was not only a favorite spot to humans, but also to the fearless squirrels who used it as a feeding ground, always greeting us with that effing glare; at least we won’t miss them. But we will miss the concerts and numerous festivals there, where massive amounts of music fans could gather and joy in hearing their favorite artists while a mysterious smog pervaded the air. We’ll have to get used to life around here without the HUB lawn, as difficult as that may be. Although we grieve, we must carry on.

But nary a cloud has hung over Happy Valley as of late, in the lawn’s dying days. And though the air is becoming crisper and fall is just two days away, we can and should attend the HUB lawn at its deathbed–you’d better cherish it while you can if you don’t want your last image of it until you graduate (and a maybe couple years after that) to be dirt, bright orange fencing, and endless, blaring noise.

HUB lawn, may you hibernate in peace and emerge even better in four years, as we so sadly bid you farewell.