Welcome to the Muscota Marsh. No alcohol allowed.

This is us, Paula and Christina, two of your average Columbia freshmen. We’ve got Carman parties, Lit Hum, and mandatory meal plans. About our campus… It grows because we build complexes all over the city. And between you and us, something amazing happened…and now we can talk to animals! It’s really cool, but totally secret. And you know what? Life’s never been the same.

Last Saturday we decided to put off reading the Iliad and break out of the Columbia bubble. We thought about following our zoology professor, Nigel, to do research in Patagonia, but decided taking the train to 218th street instead would be equally as adventurous.

A little birdie told us that Muscota Marsh, right next to Columbia’s Baker Stadium and Campbell Athletic Complex, is one of the best places in the city for animal lovers like ourselves. We strolled through the entrance, munching on some care package goodies, when a high-pitched voice from the trees above brought us to a halt.

Keith and Musa, guardians of the marsh.

“HEY! Can you hook me up with some of that?”

“Who’s there?!” we exclaimed, and a gray flash darted down the tree closest to us, and stopped at our feet in the form of the chubbiest squirrel in the world.

“My name is Knickerbocker, but my friends call me Nick! I’m tired of eating nuts and birthday cake all day, can I get some of those cookies?”

“Birthday cake? Where do you get that around here, Nick?”

“Since neighborhood families started having parties here on the weekends, I’ve gained a taste for it. I’ve gotten fluffier since the park opened in January.”

We looked at each other as we handed him some of our Oreos. “We know that struggle,” we sighed. “Where we’re from it’s called the freshman fifteen.”

“Aw man, thanks for the treats guys! It’s cool that you’re even talking to me. Most people keep to themselves while they drink their coffee or do yoga in the mornings, and the families just want to watch the weird looking birds and look for the seal. It’s mostly quiet, and even the people that really hated the idea of the park and protested against it are regulars.”

The fabled seal, almost.

“Wait—there was a seal?!”

“Yeah. Four years ago, a seal came up to the Hudson, and for some reason people thought it was a big deal. It hasn’t been seen since. There’s even a conspiracy theory that the whole park was built just so people could find it, instead of as an apology by Columbia for taking over a neighborhood with its athletic complex.”

With our minds unable to concentrate on anything but the thought of an adorable seal, we said a quick goodbye and speed-walked further into the park until we reached the dock. We sat vigilantly for five hours in the hopes that we would catch a glimpse of the seal. With no luck, we returned home with the crew team in the free shuttle. Maybe next time.

Columbia marks its territory.