Snow!

It is snowing today. The sky has that peculiar texture that it obtains only when it snows—composed of dense, light grey clouds, without a single break for the entire skyline—so that it looks like the normally blue sky has been blocked out by a warm, old blanket that all of CU is snuggling up under. I am curled up underneath the biggest window in my dorm, drinking a mug of hot chocolate as big as my head, and watching the fat flakes fall from the sky.

Back in Oklahoma, snow was a special occasion. During the one or two snowfalls a year, everyone would cluster by the window and watch the flakes come down. When it snowed, schools would shut down, parents would brew hot chocolate, and kids would hurl themselves out to play at the lightest dusting of white on the ground. Snow cemented its special place in my heart one morning when I was eight or nine. My sister and mother and I had made a Jello cake the night before. But, it was not ready before bed, so I was condemned to leave it for dessert the night after. When I woke the next morning and bounced to breakfast, what to my wondering eyes did appear? My mother, holding a large slice of Jello cake and a steaming mug of hot coco to hype me up for a day in the snow. We never, ever ate desserts at my house; so naturally, I could not believe my eyes. I kept glancing up at my mom, waiting for her to change her mind, and snatch the plate away. But she never did. After I finished what was probably the happiest meal of my life, my big sister and I ran outside and played all day in a sugared-up frenzy. My mom even took time off of work to help us build the biggest snow fort in history!

But, I have found that in Colorado, snow does not hold the same magic. Most of the natives I know simply sigh, pull on their snow boots, and resign themselves to a day of slogging through the mud to get to class. At the beginning of summer, when I was waiting out the ninety-degree heat, I would chatter on to my new friends about how I could not wait for it to snow. Most of them looked at me baffled. “Why? Snow is so annoying,” they would reply. So naturally, today as I bundled up in my snow gear, ready to play in the snow, my roommate looks at me, shakes her head, and just says, “No. I am going to fall over. My boots are going to get wet.”

I have begun to react to college in a similar manner to Coloradoans and the snow. Many mornings I sigh, pull up a stack of books, and begin to tackle that day’s to-do list. I have found that college is surprisingly monotonous. Granted, there are great opportunities, but most of my days are spent hacking away at endless homework, keeping up with my paid work, or going to class. Maybe it is just the truth of anything that you live everyday, but the shiny has rubbed off of college, and it can just be tedious.

Today, the snow reminded me to look for the magic in my life. Despite the mud on my academic boots, college is still this fairy-tale place where we can hang out with other intellectuals, sample almost every type of subject imaginable in search of our passion, and when we finally do find a passion, study under leaders in the field.

In the midst of midterm season, I too often focus on the work and the stress, and I lose sight of just how good my life is right now. But, when I am feeling most worn down, I pass in front of a window and watch the flakes come down.