March 9th, 2015
Why am I feeling this inexplicable regret as I watch the yellow grass emerge from beneath the blanket of snow?
Water dripping from the balcony above serves as a reminder of the wonderland that surrounded us, only two days ago, when the world was covered in icing from a birthday cake.
Streams of melting snow frame the narrow roads around the College of Medicine today, washing away the memory of winter…
This may be the last time I see you, dear First Winter. We have been through many adventures together. Do you remember:
- The time I slipped on a mound of ice on my way to school, and spent the entire lecture trying to preserve my keyboard’s hygiene
- or the time I finished reading a novel in the car while I waited for the sleet to melt on my windshield
- or the time I slid across a sheet of black ice in the courtyard by the library, only to exclaim, “I sprained my medial collateral ligament!”
- or the time I decided to walk to school when it was zero degrees Fahrenheit outside, so I could fully experience this milestone in my life.
Such wonderful adventures; I will never forget the thrill of discovery.
As I was growing up, “snow” was synonymous with “holiday.” And thus I spent the last two months of my life on an extended vacation – a “Thanksgiving Take Three,” as it were.
I’ll miss the satisfying crunch underneath my boots, the simulated experience of marching toward the South Pole on a foolhardy expedition.
I’ll miss my routine of emailing my parents a screenshot of the forecast every morning.
I’ll even miss hearing others complain about the weather – because I know, like any true expeditioner, that subzero temperatures are nothing to complain about. It’s just air, after all.
And now, as I walk outside with only a featherweight jacket over my shoulders, I notice something I have not seen in months: bird droppings, splattered over the trunk of my car. I scoop a handful of melting snow from underneath the tree and scrub away the last of the blemish. After all, my bottle of Windex is still frozen solid.
Aftermath: March 20th, 2015
First day of spring.