My grandmother used to say, "When it snows it pours." Then we would call her a Crazy Old Biddy, and she would cry. But truth be told, she was on to something in that crazy, crazy mind of hers. After we locked her in the Old Folk's Home we built in the basement, she stopped saying things like that, or at least we didn't hear her anymore. But the point is, when the snow starts falling each winter, it really does comes down. That is especially true at Princeton. The snow marks a particular time of our academic year.
I arrived back on campus after holiday break to the sight of no snow (if we discount invisible snow). The cab driver who shuffled me back from the Trenton train station expressed his chagrin at the snow-deprived environs. But only a day later, the ground was covered. What does this annual rite of winter mean for us as a University community? You may say, "It means very little, Eric, almost nothing of importance." But you are only 98 percent correct. It does mean something. It means something psychological. And metaphysical. And even a little bit epistemological.
I think those six-sided flakes really have an effect on the mind. They make us study harder. They make us feel as though we are snowed-in intellectuals caught somewhere in the New England countryside with only our trusty lanterns and rations of rice-meal to last us the week, until we die a romantic snowed-in death. I love the snow.
The snow also creates a sense of community on campus. We are driven into buildings for blessed warmth, and there we interact with our colleagues and communicate. When the grass is green we could be anywhere, moseying about, not communicating. The snow really forces us to take shelter and talk.
It also makes me want to sleep longer. It even makes me want to snore. I want to pretend I am a giant hibernating bear who just ate a big, sweet jar of honey and a couple of lost lambs. I want to curl under my covers while that food spends several months sitting awkwardly in my digestive tract.
Then the snow makes me want to build things out of it. Possibly to create an idolatrous statue that one could worship or to fashion an adorable man of snow consisting of different-sized snow spheres.
But possibly the best part about the snow is the way it makes people fall down. It is really awesome when you are walking along and some guy near you unintentionally takes a spill. You know it was accidental because he waved his arms like he was trying to fly or said something like, "Great heavens!" or "Please protect me!" A lot of times I want to make eye contact with the person as he sits there, but usually the faller doesn't return the gaze, even when I smile or point. Sometimes I stand on the piece of ice the person fell upon so he can know for sure where the misstep was made and so I can prove that it really wasn't that slippery.
All in all the snow means a lot of things to me. And as we enjoy it, let us not take it for granted the way the Canadians do. If there's one thing I've learned from the country Mexico, it's not to take snow for granted. Even yellow snow. So next time you see a patch of snow, whatever its color, hold it to your heart until it gets too cold to bear. And if you're feeling generous, show it to grandma in the basement. She'll say something crazy about it and give a good laugh. Eric Bland is an English major from Richmond, Va. He can be reached at ebbland@princeton.edu.
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