Shortly into my first few weeks here at Whitman, I learned a vital lesson: Watch out when near the ivy. You never know what will be there. Sometimes you will cross the bridge leading from Prentiss to Penrose and spot a girl playing a Native American flute, sometimes the ivy is swarming with ducks. My personal favorite would be the occasional spotting of a man wearing overalls, crouching in the ivy while fishing.
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Hidden in the Ivy
Marra Clay
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February 24, 2014
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