I think I’d be able to forgive it. As hard as it would be and as impossible as it once seemed, I think I could forgive Ithaca’s terrible winter. Before I came to Cornell, I didn’t even know what zero degrees felt like. I’d experienced cold weather before, but Ithaca surpasses the definition of cold, maybe even the definition of freezing. There is no word to express what we endure here, except maybe: “Seriously?” But even the cold is not as enraging as its bipolar quality. Before you know it, a sunny sky can drastically change appearance and afflict us with a forceful downpour; and a clear view of where you’re headed can be obstructed by countless little ice pellets. Sometimes the wind seems to be the result of crushed up icicles converted into rapid swirling air. Sometimes the weather appears to be angry and resentful, as if we were offending it by daring to go outside.
Though forgiveness for this type of environmental abuse may seem inconceivable, I think it is possible if a certain price is paid. The price of forgiveness is the first glimpse of a beautiful day. The kind of day when the grass is visible and bright and green; when people linger outside rather than speed walk to the nearest bus stop; when the sun gives the entire campus a healthy, happy glow; and when even the buildings seem softer and more inviting. I’m not saying this day will come tomorrow, or is even around the corner, but when this day does finally arrive, I don’t think we’ll be able to be anything but grateful. I don’t think we’ll be able to remain bitter. So although you probably still zip up your jacket before heading out the door, don’t abandon hope that this day will come. “It’s a beautiful day, sky falls you feel like it’s a beautiful day.”
