I had just woken up with plans of an intense study session prior to my exam. The world felt gloomy and failure inevitable. I got dressed in the dark and left my dorm. All of a sudden, I was enveloped in a white light. Was I dying? No, it was the beautiful sight of snow flurries falling to the ground, creating a majestic winter wonderland. Tears began to well in my eyes and a smile crept onto my face. It was the first snow of the year and I was in awe.

As a born and raised Floridian, I tend to be more familiar with the warmer side of things. The beach, the sun, the accompanying sunburn — that is what I had grown up in. Sometimes during January it would drop to 40 degrees, but only in the early morning on the drive to school. To combat this, I’d simply run to my car and turn on my heated seats. By the time the school day ended and I left the building to head back to my car, the temperature had already risen up to 70 and I was left sweating in my hoodie. Days like this would be the talk of the town, with everyone commenting on how cold it had gotten. Within a few days, though, we would be back to our regularly scheduled heat and humidity. It was a simpler time in my life, when there was no need for coats or snow boots.

The good news is that to face these unparalleled climate challenges throughout the next few months, I am equipped with a child-like joy, one that started back in September. The changing of the leaves began slowly, and at first I barely noticed. I had never thought to take the time to look at the consistent leaves at home, so why would I start craning my neck up now? Finally, I drew my eyes up and noticed the warm hues that were beginning to shine through the green of the trees. Slowly, the colors began to overtake all of the leaves, with traces of green left to the grass and evergreens. Not the willowing palm trees of my home, these leaves were actually affected by the flipping of the calendar pages. Pictures would be sent to my family and friends down south. The best of the best would earn a spot on my Instagram story with a meticulously chosen song to accompany the bliss I felt while looking at the mosaic. Soon, the campus became a blistering array of colors and I couldn't look away. Comments of amazement earned me side eyes and snickers, but how can one not be in awe? It was truly a sight to behold. Unfortunately though, as nothing good ever lasts, the leaves reached their final stage and I was forced to watch them drift slowly to the ground. My sadness didn't last though, as I realized this meant I could step in the leaves and hear the beautiful crunch that was so stereotypical of the fall weather. Once again, this faded when I saw large horrific machines blowing away the leaves and my fall dreams alongside them.

Without the colors on the trees, I felt the world around me plunge into an intense depression. The sky shared this sadness as it turned a murky gray, blocking out any chance of a recovering sunlight. I began to fight for my life without the sunshine on my side and felt myself desperately reaching for my Vitamin D gummies. The permacloud that had been described to me so many times had finally decided to make its appearance. Each day I desperately looked at the weather app, hoping for just an hour or two of sun or even partial cloud. Alas, it was not to be found. I tried to look to the bright side, more specifically the everpresent shine of the dome against the gray sky, but it was to no avail. I missed the Florida heat and humidity I had so happily said goodbye to.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the brown landscape disappeared under a blanket of white snow. The world felt reborn as the thick snowflakes floated languidly to the ground. Soon enough the ground was covered in a thick layer, with enough available that it could be packed into a weapon should the need and one's friends arrive. New residents began to pop up around campus as snowmen were rolled into fruition. Snow-covered dome pictures plagued social media as the flurries continued. The impending stress regarding finals in the upcoming weeks was temporarily forgotten as Notre Dame turned into a winter wonderland.

While this first snow has come to an end, I am quite excited for what the upcoming weeks will bring. After experiencing the changing leaves in all their glory, I am anticipating seeing the campus in even more snowy grandeur, one that lasts longer than 24 hours. Hopefully when the January weather hits, I’ll simply keep my thoughts to the bright snow and not the fact that I’ve lost all feeling in my toes.