The last several days in central Pennsylvania have been cold. Like, cold cold. On Friday, as I walked the stretch of campus from my parking lot to the building where I teach, my face felt savagely assaulted by the air. A student came in behind me, tears streaming down his face. When I asked if he was okay, he said, "Thanks, I'm good. I'm really not upset. The wind is just making me cry."
That kind of cold.
But today is not cold. In fact, it's downright balmy. It's 48 degrees, which feels delightful in a way that people from Florida would say is delusional, but people who cry unbidden tears from the whipping wind in Pennsylvania understand.
It's just a hint of spring. Unexpected, delightful, and a promise that winter won't last forever.
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