Basileia

Yesterday my school, which doesn’t give us the day off for Marten Luther King Jr. Day, much less snow days, was gradually slowed to a stop by enormous quantities of beautiful beautiful snow. Officially, the only cancellation made by the school was to close down the administrative offices at noon and to close down some of the food kiosks in the Campus Center. Classes were held underneath the gathering two feet of snow that distorted the shapes of all familiar landmarks around campus, and buried smaller things like benches, bushes and cars.

I had a morning class: Latin. Our teacher offered some Catullus in the spirit of the day, and though I was sleepy, I was happy to be there. I walked through the snow to class that morning, starting out by walking to a less-frequented section of Campus near the President’s house, in order to get my forms from the registrar for classes next term. The campus had the deserted feeling that it usually has before the very early classes held on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. But then when I walked past the chapels into the central quad, I saw students walking around, as usual, but incumbered by the snow, making slow progress with their eyes squinting into the snow. Everything was obscured by whiteness, but underneath that, everything was also as usual.

Walking into the campus center, no one would have guessed that the paths outside were barely passable. Everyone was there, clubs had set up at tables seeking membership and money. There were few free seats at the tables in the common area. It was warm, and the light seemed very yellow after the white snow. This makes my list of things I love about my school.

But no one really did anything, all day. We all sat in the house together, doing nothing. Cooking. I had never watched pasta sauce being made from scratch before. I knew that a lot went into sauce, but I was surprised when a basic recipe required that the sauce be simmered for an hour and a half. I learned that I seem to like my pasta on the raw side of al dente. I had already baked enough to last us all day. I took a long nap, and then I took longer to wake up. It was a great Valentine’s Day, I said, my favorite.