I was born in the dead of winter—which, for a Floridian, doesn’t mean much of anything. Winter, for a Floridian, is really just a Less Hot Summer: a balmy 85 degrees Fahrenheit on Christmas Day. Welcome to Swampland! So, you might ask, why would a Floridian ever come to Michigan for school? Why choose to suffer through winter?
Snow. Snow, snow, snow! I didn’t see snow stick until I was 13; I never made a snow angel until I was 15; I have still never successfully made a snowman (please help me, Michiganders).
I didn’t understand until my first winter here in East Lansing that snow is beautiful, but snow is also Suffering: Goodbye to my non-waterproof mascara on a snowy day, goodbye to all feeling in my hands, goodbye to my ears (surely they’ve fallen off by now?); goodbye to ever feeling warm ever again.
Rebecca Ryder is a senior studying English and creative writing. She can usually be found with a pen or paintbrush in her hand, dabbling in painting, calligraphy, and photographing her sisters for the blog they dream of running together. Follow her on Instagram at @rebwriter