In the summer, I hear all sorts of things. I hear the faint sounds of a child splashing in the fountain in front of Robertson Hall. I hear the distinct noise of mosquitos swarming throughout the oppressively humid and warm air. I hear animated chatter as friends catch up with one another on the places they’ve been and the things they’ve seen.
Summer at Princeton always feels alive — on a hot day, Palmer square will be thrumming with energy as students grab coffee, children eat their ice cream, and dogs run around. The sounds of joy and the vibrant colors give hope to the students coming back from break; it’s a new semester which means new friends, new memories, new classes, and a new chance.
In the fall, the energy from the summer seems to slowly dissipate away. It’s still in the background, but it is certainly less energetic. Fall at Princeton feels more mellow yet the weeks are filled with festivities and fun as students come together to carve pumpkins and celebrate the leaves changing color.
As the sun begins to go down earlier and the temperature declines, one is caught between the anticipation of Thanksgiving and yet, the desire for the holidays to come sooner, and when they do come around, a deep lull takes place.
By the time winter approaches, the trees will be barren. Sometimes, a thin layer of snow will cover the paths leading up to Nassau Hall, other times, there will be heavy bouts of rain. Winter at Princeton feels like a warm hug from your loved ones and yet the pain of nostalgia as you reminisce on warmer months and brighter days. Winter is the juxtaposition of the end of a semester and yet the beginning of a new year.
When spring rolls around, hearts are full and bellies are content. As the flowers blossom and the pollen swirls around, it feels as if life has sprung back to full force. Spring is for the creatures who are so desperate to chirp and sing and for the students who have long awaited for the sun’s embrace. Spring at Princeton is a celebration of the semester’s end, the start of a long awaited summer, and the conclusion of a chapter.
As I reminisce on the seasonal changes at Princeton, I embrace the old and the new, the snowflakes and the tulips, and the ever changing nature of life that swirls by as I traverse through the campus day by day.
