That’s not the same thing as “spring is coming.”
I don’t like winter. I don’t like the cold, short days, and having to moisturize my hands every five minutes, and not exercising outdoors (I’ve run with three pairs of leggings and still been cold). Until it snowed on Sunday, it felt like the end of winter term.
It is the end of winter term–spring break starts March 2–but with our fresh coating of snow, it doesn’t feel like it. Even though Prize Day is in 104 days, and 24 of those will be spent on vacation, and another handful on spring long weekend, I haven’t wrapped my head around how soon all of this will be history. Soon it’ll be crew season, and one afternoon in mid-May I’ll walk down to the boathouse and notice that the trees are all so green, and then I’ll be saying goodbye to this place. June feels so far away, but it isn’t.
I took a walk around the Circle after spending too long at dinner–with good food and good friends, it’s hard not to–while listening to music and looking up at the cloudy sky. The past few nights, I’ve been able to see the Big Dipper (I think, though I haven’t confirmed with the astronomy teacher). This place has become so familiar over the past two and a half years, and soon I’ll be off in a strange new place (Ecuador! and then college!) and I’ll come back to visit and say, “Aww, remember when these tables were brand new?” (Real talk: I visited my middle school over long weekend and was shocked at how small the lockers [and the sixth graders] were.)