Quad on the first warm day of spring:
That long awaited sun icon on the Iphone weather app alongside those fateful digits, climbing much higher than the frigid temps we’ve been so used to over this long, cold winter, made their much-anticipated debut this week. The balmy 70 ° air and uninhibited sunshine were the beckoning call hibernating BC students needed to snap out of their winter slump. Limbs were freed of their material constraints and bodies flocked to the nearest patch of grass. The long abandoned middle-campus quads were re-populated by sunbathers, Frisbee players, and homework doers happy to see beyond O’Neill’s four walls. Gasson too took on new life-rising majestically above this nest of spring-awakened souls, against a backdrop of cloudless blue skies. The first warm day of spring has the unparalleled power to reignite our fire dimmed by the cold and usher the Boston College community from their indoor refuge to rejoice in the beauty of our campus and, moreover, our world. Stress fades, faces brighten, and the whole community relishes in springs warm embrace.
After a full day relishing in 70 long awaited degrees, seniors slowly trickle back to their source. Groups of friends gather around the grill in a scene of uncomplicated beauty as the sun of the first warm day of spring sets on the brilliant red mods. They’ve been longing for the moment to relive the glory days of football tailgates: burgers, solo cups, and a whole lot of fun. Friends embrace amidst a palpable energy of both rebirth and the recognition that college days are coming to an end. The warmth of spring brings both an energy lost to grueling course work amid winters wrath as well as sadness for the end. Though unspoken, the feeling is crawling out of each embrace, each laugh. This sense of bittersweet begs that these moments be cherished more deeply than ever before. While no burger will taste as good as those served fresh off a mod grill, the uncertainty of post-grad life is soothed by the happiness that is abound in the moments we have left.
I should be writing the conclusion of my essay. Yet, my focus is drawn to the room. The energy is palpable. With fifteen minutes left in the exam, ideas are flowing above our heads and words are pouring out of tightly gripped pencils scribbling furiously across blue books. The boy in front of me is the perfect test-taking specimen. The muscles in his back are tensely hunched over his desk. He looks up now and again to catch his breath, staring into an invisible realm filled with his thoughts, grasping at knowledge stored from the past four weeks of class time discussion. Once he grabs the idea, he snaps back to the world in his blue book, his pen returning to a fervent scrawl. A cough brings me back to reality and ten minutes later I’m sealing my fate as I hand in my own blue book. The bodies filing out of Gasson 303 are doppelgangers to those that walked in. The stress filled muscles that walked in have relaxed in their survival. Heart rates have settled, smiles have returned to blank faces, and minds swirling with facts and figures have slowed down. The worst is over, its time to go home.