It’s spring again. Or so I hear. However, by the look of it, Mother Nature has yet to catch on to this bit of information.
Two weeks ago, I was anxiously eyeing the abandoned drawer in my dresser that contains summer apparel, my shorts and skirts . and now, I find myself throwing on ye old winter coat and gloves again as I march out into the snowy, wet weather.
Winter seems so much colder and longer than it used to be. I dread the daily march across campus to my classes from lack of a convenient parking spot. I cling to my jacket and prepare myself for the freezing winds that force my hair to repeatedly smack me in the face.
Snow becomes an obstacle, even keeps many indoors when at all possible. It makes the icy walk from my porch to the car a life-threatening experience. It certainly made my roommate’s trip to the grocery store a few weeks ago end abruptly when she returned home after being gone for 5 minutes.
She walked in, dusted the snow off her coat and announced that she had changed her mind because she could no longer see the road.
As I sat here this morning, procrastinating on my homework and looking out at the spring snow, I began to realize how much more yellow it all looks now than it used to.
When I was in grade school, snow was the best thing in the entire world. I watched outside my window and prayed for it to start sticking to the roads. It meant the possibility of a “snow day.”
This was the only time I ever remember watching the news as a kid – and it is how I recall learning what county I lived in – eagerly waiting to see if school had been canceled.
Eyes glued to the TV, my sister and I anxiously bit our lips in hopes of seeing those few magic words flash up on the screen. It would give us the entire day to goof off and play in the snow – sledding and snowball fights, the possibilities were endless.
And oh how sad when it melted. Back then the only snow to avoid was the yellow snow. We knew what it meant, and we stayed far away from it. It was the only bad snow that existed.
Now that I am in college, I no longer waste my time watching the news, listening to the radio or even checking online to see if school has been canceled, because I know that unless a nuclear bomb goes off nearby we will still probably be having classes. I can see it now:
ETSU ALERT:
NUCLEAR EXPLOSION NEARBY, FOR THOSE STILL ALIVE; CLASSES WILL BE ON A TWO-HOUR DELAY.
Yes, now we just strap on our winter gear and prepare for the long drive/walk ahead and pray for spring. It’s all yellow snow to me. But then there are the students whom I have met here, who just don’t seem to see snow the same way I do.
There are people here who eagerly await the snow. It is, to them, snowboarding/skiing weather, or maybe they just love snow in general, love driving around in it, love the way it looks, love the way it feels.
I have even met a few who still hold out hope for ETSU to announce a snow day (ah, freshmen).
I have contemplated the sanity of these people all winter. But maybe I should be admiring them instead. I wish that I could still see things the way they do. Still see the good like I used to, in what now seems like an annoyance.
It is spring again. Or so I hear. As I now close that dresser drawer, knowing that I will not need it anytime soon, I return to my homework because I have procrastinated long enough.
If I can just keep in mind that warmth will come soon enough and that I should just enjoy the ride, maybe the next snow won’t seem so yellow.
“Nature has no mercy at all. Nature says, ‘I’m going to snow. If you have on a bikini and no snowshoes, that’s tough. I am going to snow anyway.”
– Maya Angelou

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