The fall term of your freshman year is like a cataract--it steadily creeps over you, encasing you in academics and activities, until finally you're so blinded you cannot see a world beyond Harvard Yard. Your behavior changes: your gaze becomes glazed like the Wild Man of Borneo, your feet almost automatically head for Lamont Library, you don't think you have even a few moments to spare to run to the Coop or see friends, and your whole world revolves around the Union and the Science Center. It's entirely possible to wake up on a Monday and realize that, for the past four days, you have been working so feverishly you had no idea whether it was day or night, and all that time is merely a monochromatic blur.

If your existence becomes so cocooned, it's time to escape. You can walk around the city to regain a sense of perspective, or even head for a weekend in New Hampshire or New York, or curl up with a mystery novel. Chances are, however, that you won't have much time to flee, and that you'll want to find a spot isolated from roommates typing Expos papers and neighbors blasting Springsteen out the window. Tucked away in odd corners, Harvard does provide idyllic spots for contemplation, quiet places where you can sit back for a moment and enjoy being alive.

One is the Busch-Reisinger Museum. When it's warm you can lounge in its courtyard beneath the lion of Brunswick and wonder if medieval Germany really looked that beautiful. Modern sculptures blend into the corners but don't look out of place. Goldfish swim in the fountain, and above the entrance is a sculpted head of a saint. The best time in the courtyard is late spring, when lilacs scent the air. The museum itself contains awesome religious statues and sponsors concerts every Thursday at lunchtime.

You could also walk down Div Ave to Andover Hall at the Divinity School. On the second floor is a large chapel, often empty and always serene. The Div School holds weekly services there, but normally when you visit you can sit for hours looking at the stained glass and organ in a complete hush.

A bus ride away, just beyond Fresh Pond, is Mt. Auburn Cemetery. You may find it somewhat surprising that a cemetery is one of the more popular picnic areas in town. The older section, with elaborate sculpted stones boasting names like Lowell and Winthrop, is the more scenic. On the highest part of the cemetery rests a romantic turreted stone tower from which you can get an amazing view of the Boston skyline. Manicured paths line the cemetery itself, and they can be wonderful places to wander when you want to be alone and outdoors.

The standard place to meander is along the Charles, where you can find joggers 24 hours a day. Be careful about walking alone late at night, though. In winter you can "tray" (sled on the Union's meal trays) on Weeks Bridge. In the spring one sophomore sat underneath the bridge every morning to feed the ducks. Just beyond the bridge lies the prettiest of all Harvard campuses--the Business School. You can marvel at the myopia of the B-School students, who look singularly homogeneous with their briefcases and harried faces. They never seem to notice what a delightful place to stroll their campus is.

You can get a comprehensive idea of where to get away in Boston by going to the movie "Where's Boston?" shown near Government Center. Best bets are the North End, the Italian section of the city where pasta and festivals abound, the Aquarium and the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The Gardner Museum is most interesting in winter, when baby's breath bloom throughout the skylighted inner courtyard. A replica of a 15th-century Venetian palace, the Gardner houses an impressive collection of Oriental rugs and pieces by Rembrandt, Matisse, Whistler and Sargent. Three days a week it sponsors concerts.

Probably one of the reasons you came to school in Cambridge is that you'd heard what a great college town Boston is and you thought of all the fascinating things to do there. A lot of undergraduates arriving at Harvard think that way but unfortunately never get farther than the bar at the Hong Kong. All roads lead to Harvard Square, or so the saying goes, but don't forget they go the other way, too.