I had lived through spring and summer my entire life. I was lucky to be born in Colombia, and I was thus blessed to have flowers every day of my childhood. I could not really imagine what a snowflake was like, it seemed so distant, and as everything you haven’t experienced yet, you think about it with a sense of incredibility. I knew cold, I knew rain, but in my mind, in my past, weather was more dependable, less volatile. I had not grasped completely what it would be like to have the streets, the parks, everything I knew covered in white, to see it completely transformed. I was not prepared for the calm that embraces the city after a snowstorm, the deafening silence nor the reassuring loneliness.
My first snowfall was here, in New Haven, just a few weeks ago. It was beautiful, wonderful, and it reminded me that sometimes in a world full of adult challenges, you get to live a child’s joy. New Haven was striking under the snow, Yale was so much more. It seemed like a place taken out of a dream, and I could not wait to walk around, to explore this new picturesque scenario I seemed to know, but was yet so different, so beautiful. I touched it, I twirled in it, I made snowballs, I was mesmerized, it was amazing. From that moment I knew that as time went by I would forget many things from my time here, but that was a day I would cherish forever. Words will never grasp how wonderful it really was.
As winter comes and almost goes, the feeling lingers. Every time it snows I cannot wait to take a nightly stroll. It still surprises me, and I can only hope it will never seize to amaze me, and remind me how different it is to live on different sides of the world. I just hope there are many moments like this left, making me believe there is always time and a slight possibility that your mind will be blown away.