It’s 8:24 a.m. on Monday, and you just left your dorm. You want to pick up a bagel from Paresky Commons to fill your empty stomach for the next hour and fifteen minutes and you need to print out your history essay for the first period. Speed walking with your paper in one hand and your bagel in the other, your foot slips, the world spins, and all of a sudden, you’re on the ground. You realize you just slipped on a patch of black ice; your bagel is ruined and your paper is on the ground, soaked by the white snow. Disoriented, your first thought is, “Did anyone see me?”
On Monday, many students faced this situation. As students prepared to leave the warmth of their dorms and homes, they were met by sheets of pure ice blanketing the paths, several feet thick in some areas. A downpour on Sunday, followed by freezing midnight temperatures, had turned campus into a treacherous landscape. Battling bitter, howling winds, students skidded and hobbled across the ice to class, careful not to slip and fall.
Amid the stresses of penultimate week, the added inconvenience and potential risk of injury of navigating these icy conditions may have brought frustration. Whether it’s braving the slippery ice while still half-asleep, or trudging back to the dorm at sunset with salt-stained pants, just the thought of venturing out of our houses and dorms in the winter — often considered the most depressing term of the year — can fill us with dread. Moreover, with countless tasks swamping our daily schedules, it is easy to overlook our surroundings and become absorbed in the seemingly never-ending deluge of work. At Andover, we are constantly rushing; to our next class, next meeting, next game. Yet we neglect the year-round delights of nature: the leaves’ changing colors, the icicles glimmering on the edges of branches, the flowers blooming across every corner of campus.
But the thick ice coating the paths forces a slower, deliberate pace, pulling us out of our heads and into our bodies. We gain an unexpected gift: a chance to notice the afternoon sun catching the frost on the trees, the snow settling on old brick buildings, and the way our breath forms delicate clouds in the winter air. We become grounded in the present moment. Stepping outside, phone tucked away, we feel the crunch of ice and salt beneath our shoes and, for a moment, allow ourselves to exist beyond deadlines and notifications.
The ice may be frustrating and annoying; however, its presence allows us to notice how disconnected we are from our surroundings and each other. Andover is renowned for providing exceptional resources and education to its students and we should make the most of our experiences here. So be in the present, embrace the cold. Go sledding in the Knoll. Build a snowman with your friends. Help each other up on the paths. Winter can bring unexpected moments of community — it’s up to us to break the ice.
This Editorial represents the opinions of The Phillipian, vol. CXLVIII
