Today’s weather was rainy and cool, but a cold front or something similar hit this evening – we have quite a bit of snow on the ground, and probably ice as well from the earlier rain.

I’m from Georgia, and for you New Englanders who are used to this sort of thing, let me assure you that EVERY SINGLE freshman from the South, at least, is looking out their window in wonder. Snow, to us, is a precious commodity, because it inevitably melts within a few days, or even the same day is falls. It is a thing of celebration, of sleds and snowmen and all of the things that we see in Romantic Comedy Christmas movies.

So we run around and frolich in the lovely white stuff, and enjoy the lovely crunch of powder beneath our boots going to class. We are grateful to the cold. But then, the snow doesn’t go away. In fact, it seems to desire a longer stay than we have ever conceived of. Our joy becomes ashen as the landscape becomes white, grey and boring, we grow tired of shaking off our boots, and we walk, heads bowed, wondering what happened to the grass we lay on in August, as we struggle through the puddle right in front of the Science Center.

As I look at the frosh from my region as well as their Facebook statuses of surprise, I know the joy in their hearts will give in to despair as the months of white roll by. This is the experience of the Southern Eph in the Berkshires for their first winter.

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