I’ve been fooled by the fake Spring far too many times

Sunshine wakes me up in my cozy dorm. I thought today would be the start of something new. Is spring finally coming? It’s 68 Fahrenheit today. The actual, legitimate, sit-on-lawns-outside-Butler kind weather. Everybody is lying on the ground, enjoying every bit of Sunshine, reclaiming the vitamin D we’ve been deprived of all winter. Laughter is back. Roundnet and volleyball reappear as if they were never abandoned in the corners of dorm rooms.

The city feels soft for once. A mistake, but a hopeful one. I let myself believe it.

I step outside without a jacket with my best sunglass. Lying on the grass, I even consider whether I’ve been too harsh on New York. Maybe we are having our spring. Holding the hope, I fall asleep.

Then, next day, 32 Fahrenheit, just like yestarday is my dream. I take out the scarf and jacket I just put back my closet. A usual day, no surprises. The city goes back to black and white.

Fake spring in New York isn’t just a weather pattern. It is a psychological war. It lures you with warmth, making you relax, and then immediately withdraws, leaving you cold, and betrayed. The worst part isn’t temperature drop. It’s the hope. It’s the one day where campus feels like a movie montage, only for all of it be quickly revoked in 24 hours.

This is fake spring. This is a scam. And yet, every year, I fall for it again.

Starting next Tuesday, bring an umbrella every single day because of course it’s going to rain all the week.:)

Images via Bwog Archives