Wednesday, March 6th 2013

     The coffee shop on campus was quieter than most Wednesday mornings. The line to get my coffee wasn't long or nearly out the door as it is around nine o' clock. I checked my watch as I stood in line. For once I wouldn't be walking into class with a minute to spare.
     "Can you believe the snow?" A girl behind me asked her friend.
     "No. I thought for sure class would be canceled. I'm actually mad at my professor for making me come to class with all this snow."
     I tried to hold in a snort. If only they knew what other parts of the country were dealing with snow-wise. Minnesota was hit with close to 18" in less than twelve hours. What Pittsburgh accumulated over night was like the kiddie pool of snowstorms.
     "I heard Pitt Johnstown is closed."
     "Really? Ugh. That's unfair."
     I rolled my eyes, ordered my coffee, and bolted out of the coffee shop.
     Class was no better. The few who managed to show up complained about how difficult it was to walk around campus in the wet, heavy snow. There were concerns about if facilities would salt before the afternoon or how they were so tired of winter weather.
     "It's so cold my car had trouble starting. I was almost late for class."
     "I'm so tired of snow."
     "I need it to be spring. I hate winter."
      All the complaining flew around every corner of campus that I was starting to become irate. In the middle of class as I stared out of the window, through the blinds, I imagined myself standing in the middle of the quad on campus. "Night on Bald Mountain" would narrate as I cast the biggest snowstorm Pittsburgh would ever see, all with the flick of my wrist. I would give everyone a real reason to complain about the snow. Four inches was nothing to make such a fuss over. Instead of staying on campus to do homework like I had planned, I left. I couldn't take another moment of negative attitude about the weather.
     Instead, I went to Baum.
     It had been the best decision. I needed a place where it was quiet so I could enjoy the fresh coat of snow. I knew Baum would provide the solitude I so desperately needed. When I stepped into the parklet I immediately felt my shoulders relax. Besides the crunch of my boots on the snow, Baum was quiet. I threw my backpack on the bench and brushed off a bit of snow so I could sit.
     With my back against the bench I looked up at the tree branches. Each branch was covered in clean, white snow. On certain parts of the branches there was a small mound of snow. As a whole the mounds on the branches of all the trees reminded me of how dew looks on the lines of a spider's web. Sometimes those mounds became too heavy for the branch. The limb would crack and the snow would fall like a curtain.
     After some time, I'm not sure how long, the sun peeked through the clouds and the most magical thing happened. The films of light broke through the trees and created this layer of sparkle on the snow. Baum seemed to light up and come alive. I watched as more snow cascaded from the trees and sparkle on it's way down to the ground.
     Suffering through a morning full of complaining was worth seeing snow in such a light. For a moment I wondered if the two friends in the coffee shop or my classmates had stopped to enjoy such beautiful snow? Maybe they would have felt differently about their walk to class or their ride to campus. Perhaps they too would have stopped for a moment, in the quiet, and experienced the snow's final call before springs inevitable arrival.