After a long streak of bizarre forms of precipitation (including snow, hail, and copious amounts of rain), my beloved swamp of Williamsburg, Virginia is finally remembering what the season of spring is. The weather has been particularly nice here in the South as of late, with temperatures easily in the 60s and 70s, which I see as perfect weather for both leisure and study. I suppose the College of William & Mary has gotten pretty lucky with its warm, sunny skies, given that even America’s beloved groundhogs couldn’t determine when spring was to begin.
I’ve written before about my ideas on optimism and viewing life, and I specifically mention the idea of “victories,” the idea that one can think of positive, happy events throughout their day as a form of success in its own right. Enjoying beautiful weather always feels like a victory to me. In recent weeks, I’ve tried to avoid the stressful, somewhat depressing atmosphere of W&M’s beloved Swem Library (seriously, there are people studying there until 5 in the morning on some occasions) and opted to study outside.
Taking advantage of America’s largest living history museum being right outside my doorstep, I often relax and study in the outdoor spaces of Colonial Williamsburg. I enjoy sipping a nice latte while getting work done in the comfortable breezes and sunlight of Virginia. As much I as I enjoy the occasional chilly or cold day, I’ve learned to appreciate attending college in the South more and more as I view Snapchat stories of frozen friends still dealing with snow in upstate New York.
Speaking of the South, I must say I’ve come to appreciate Virginia’s unique climatic patterns. Living in New York, I always enjoyed being able to enjoy all four seasons, whether it be rain or shine, snow or hail. That being said, it did tend to veer toward extremes: last Winter Break was extraordinarily cold. I suppose I’ve been spoiled by Virginian weather, which I like to consider New York-lite.
At least in Williamsburg, the weather goes through the motions of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, but does so in a more mild, moderate manner than back home. Sure, it also tends to have higher humidity, warmth, and torrential downpours of rain (it ain’t called the swamp for nothing), but I’ll take rain and heat any day over freezing to death like it’s The Day After Tomorrow.
Blessed with mild, spring-like weather, today my Interpreting Lit class did what I would consider a pretty stereotypical, bohemian college thing: we studied outside! Rather than interpret poetry in the room-temperature, mundane surroundings of Tucker Hall, we sat on the Sunken Gardens and contemplated the deeper meanings of poetry. If that isn’t artful/cool/sophisticated/somewhat upper-class, I don’t know what is.
If anything, it was a nice break from the monotony that comes with classes, especially during midterm week. In sitting on the grass and analyzing an appropriately named poem (“The Garden”) I got the sense that I was, in a way, making the most out of my day. For all of the flaws and problems of life, I do believe that it is supposed to be enjoyed. Comfortable, idyllic weather makes for a victorious life.
