As I leisurely strolled down the main stairwell of FHC, I glanced out of the generous, gargantuan windows that accompany the landing between the two flights of stairs. A rowdy blizzard had just commenced, and the thick snowflakes that it was producing were sticking like gum to the concrete—or to anything that inhibited their contact with the ground. The branches on nearby trees moved vigorously back and forth in response to the harsh winds that accompanied this Michigan snowfall, and I spotted a student who was fighting the wind on their route to a car.

As I turned away from the window to descend down the second flight of stairs, I shivered and developed goosebumps in response. The temperature in the school was rather comfortable, and due to my comfort, I could not refrain from dreading contact with the blizzard at the conclusion of the school day. These end-of-winter blizzards constantly and successfully make me desire spring’s arrival: no presence of snow, increased sunlight and temperature, a rebirth of local vegetation. I crave the day that I will not need to gather my winter coat before departing for school, the first morning when I will be greeted by a beaming sun and hugged by the warm air that it gifts Earth with its powerful rays.

I yearn for the rebirth of wildlife that evokes rebirth in me as a student; once spring makes its presence noticeable, my motivation to complete the home stretch of the school year initiates. Likewise, I am able to consistently find myself in a pleasant, content mood once spring arrives because of its ability to make days and life kick-start. Once spring commences, no longer do days tediously drag on, and an appealing season is able to announce that its arrival is within the near future: summer. Therefore, spring triggers the first hopeful feelings of summer—an abbreviated three months of promise that I cannot help but anticipate.

Although I will not obtain the opportunity to escape the brutal winter that has trapped Grand Rapids this year during the traditional time of spring break, I was fortunate to break out of its rigid grasp for five days at the end of February. As I glance outside through the windows of my house, I wish for nothing more than to feel the warmth of sunlight, encounter green grass, and see leaves present on trees once again. While winter releases its wrath, I am able to acknowledge the beauty of the simple things that I take for granted during the warmer seasons.

I am exhausted of constantly being freezing, of having to dress in countless layers in order to not freeze to death during my two-minute walk into school. I am tired of snowfall that makes the roads a continuous ice rink and temperatures below two digits occurring. I wish that winter would cease transforming Grand Rapids into an icebox. It is pleasant at first, and drinking my first cup of hot chocolate of the season is definitely something I annually await. I am grateful for the considerate amount of snow and ice winter decided to grant Grand Rapids this winter and for the thirteen snow days in which I was granted as a result. But, winter’s stay is now overdue.