Lightning strikes. Mothers shield their babies from the wind's relentless wrath. Students hide away in the safety of their dorms, calling their loved ones to say their last goodbyes. Screams are heard in the distance, harmonizing with the melody of sirens calling out to victims. It’s cloudy and gray, and the world seems to be coming to an end.

This is what the world looks like to UC Santa Barbara students when the weather changes from anything less than sunny and 72.

We Gauchos brag about being given the luxury of beach-ready weather most days out of the year. However, we have been experiencing some drastic forecasts these past few months that have interfered with our tanning, surfing, and sun-worship rituals that are necessary for our everyday survival.

Winter kicked off with generous storms sent from El Niño himself, a housewarming gift for the new quarter. Class attendance did a reverse Drake and went from 100 to 0 real quick. I mean, who wants to (a) bike over a mile in the pouring rain or (b) fight for one of the few spots on the bus? A memory that stands out for me during this stormy season was when my friend and I were biking to a meeting when, all of a sudden, golf ball-sized chunks of hail came crashing onto us, along with buckets of rain and lightning. It was so miserable that it was almost even funny. Other people seemed to agree because, instead of offering us a ride in their warm and, most importantly, dry cars, they pulled out their phones and recorded us biking through six inches of rain to put on their Snapchat stories.

Finally, spring quarter came around, and I was so thankful that those rainclouds would clear away, and I was looking forward to the sun shining. I was beyond ready to experience some of this “awesome weather” that was a huge part of the reason I decided to go here.

One lesson learned is that not everything goes as planned. Winter showers bring spring flowers, and I guess spring flowers bring the strongest freaking winds found on Earth. One morning, I underestimated these winds of fury and decided to bike to class. There seemed to be a nice breeze out, and it looked like a perfect day for a bike ride. Nope. I could not even bike one block without almost getting thrown off from the wind. Coming back to FT was even more difficult. The wind pushed against me, and, even if I was pedaling, the opposing force kept me at a standstill. There have been so many times where I had to just get off my bike and walk back to my dorm, because biking was useless at that point. It didn’t end there. At night, the wind was so loud that it literally sounded like people were outside my window screaming at the tops of their lungs just to keep me up for a couple more hours.

Having been born and raised in Los Angeles, I am accustomed to expecting perfect weather practically every day. Mother nature has spoiled me, so of course I’m being a little dramatic about this situation. When I hear about people roughing it in places like Michigan or New York, where seasonal changes actually do occur, I am so thankful that I go to a school where my hair won’t freeze on the way to class after showering in the morning.