The other day I sat on one of the circular wooden benches near the Marriott Library and tilted my face up to the clear blue sky. I felt the warm embrace of the sun envelop my body as I began to awaken from a long winter slumber. I reveled in the bright sunlight that felt as foreign as it was familiar, and as the heat of the sun began to melt away the iciness of winter, it was as though I was being reacquainted with an old friend. A gentle dreamy drowsiness swept over me as a relaxing rush of memories ran through me, as I remembered what it was like to experience a glorious spring day. There is nothing quite like the excitement and anticipation of the spring season, a time of year when gray is replaced with green and hope springs eternal. For students there is no better way to experience the magic and beauty of the season than on the U’s campus, where signs of spring have a life of their own.
I could see a campus that was in the midst of being awakened from its own bleak winter sojourn into a veritable symphony of color and life. The majestic mountains of the Wasatch Range were slowly being transformed from snow-covered to snow-capped while the gray spidery tangles of branches that sprout out from the tree trunks have shed their icicles for hints of green. The snow has finally relinquished its winter dominance to the faded luster of a muted green grass. An intoxicatingly fresh breeze swept over me, filling my nostrils with the smells of spring and the nearby food vendors. Despite the fact I was going to be late for class, I was unable to leave my seat.
However, I was far from being alone in my reluctance to go to class as the foot traffic around campus had seemingly slowed to a standstill. The quick pace had been replaced by a gentle meandering stroll as the blue skies and inviting sun became a welcome distraction for all. Students no longer looked like a line of ants scurrying toward tunnels that led to their classrooms — instead, they walked slowly in pairs, deep in conversation on topics that probably unrelated to school. There were students soaking in the sun while sprawled out on a lawn, and others were eating their lunch on benches, having been thoroughly hypnotized by both the smells of Cafe Trang and a sunny day, blissfully savoring each bite as though it was their last.
And this is all just the beginning. As spring commences, so will the enticing diversions that come along with it. The softball stadium will be filled with the crack of ball meeting bat, and the track and field will once again be full of red blurs racing around the oval. Sunny days will continue to inspire students to skip class for the beauty of Red Butte and the lumbering elephants and playful monkeys of Utah’s Hogle Zoo. Some may choose to just stay on campus and enjoy the pleasant fiction of eating a pound of fresh pasta on a sidewalk café in Florence that a meal at Tony Caputo’s can briefly recreate.
Such were the swirling thoughts in my head as I sat glued to my wooden throne, built up by the promises of an early spring. Suddenly the thought of enduring almost an entire month of classes and the oncoming nightmare of finals didn’t seem quite as intimidating, because spring was finally starting to justify its name in the semester it represents. It’s imperative to treat this spring as though we lived in the world described by Ray Bradbury’s “All Summer in a Day,” where the sun only makes a brief appearance once every seven years. Don’t be guilty of taking spring for granted and letting the glory of experiencing the rebirth of nature pass you by. This is the time of year to eat, drink and be merry in the golden sunlight of spring, for this is Utah, and tomorrow it may snow.
[email protected]