'Tis the season

Mary, a bubbly blonde, came to Dartmouth from Pelham, New York. As we became more closely acquainted, I learned she was a women's ice hockey player. Her hockey career, however, was short-lived. After one season of walking from campus to Thompson Arena for 6:00 p.m. daily practices, Mary decided that although she loved hockey, nothing was worth the brutal cold of a New Hampshire winter. She hasn't spent a winter term in Hanover since.

I'll admit, Mary is an extremist, but her intense dislike of winter on the Hanover Plain is shared by many of her fellow students. Perhaps some of you will sympathize. Prior to 1974, there was never a choice of whether or not to spend the desolate months from December to March up here, a fact that many of you would probably prefer to forget. Because when the wind whips across the Green at a blustery six below some mornings, it's pretty hard to get excited about going outside.

Now we have a choice re: where to spend winter; as for me, I can't think of a place I'd rather be. Each November I wait eagerly for the first snowflakes to silently dust the frozen earth. Being an avid skier for 12 years, I found the College's proximity to some of the best skiing in the East one of those features that attracted me most. Killington and Pico are only 40 minutes away. Just over an hour's drive are Stratton to the southwest and Waterville Valley to the east. Add to this list Stowe and Sugarbush (both within a two-hour ride) and the area can be designated a skier's heaven. Not to be neglected are the smaller areas such as Okemo, Sunapee, Whaleback, and Suicide Six. The vari ety of terrain offers something for everyone.

I consider people crazy for wanting to leave. They think me a sadist for wanting to stay. The simple truth is that, skiing aside, I just enjoy winter. I was born and raised in the heart of Maine where winter is long often six months long. Up there you learn to appreciate the season not only for its majestic beauty, but for the unique opportunities it provides. It moved me so much that, as a little girl, I wrote a poem about it:

I love the snowflakes,I love the ice.Whoever hates the wintertimeShould think about it twice.When else could one go skiingAnd watch the pine trees dress,And listen to your mother yellWhen you come inside a mess?Yes, I love to sit around the fireAnd keep myself all warm,To snuggle up and. sip on cocoaAnd watch the winter storm.

The verse is old (and it ain't Robert Frost), but it expresses a sentiment I still feel.

So often here at Dartmouth students don't seem to appreciate the season as northern natives do. I hear a lot of complaints. People get depressed and gain weight. Winter term is also a week shorter than the other terms; and while it may be difficult for some alumni to recall, this fact alone makes academic pressure considerably more intense. Considering the large number of students from the southern regions of the country, the discontent with winter is more understandable. They aren't acclimated to the sometimes unbearable cold, and some of them are seeing snow (or more than two inches anyway) for the first time. As one Virginian describes it, "Every time you step outside, the end of your nose freezes!"

Perhaps people who don't appreciate winter haven't given themselves a chance. A good way to start is by taking a walk in a snowstorm. At dusk, you go outside bundled up as warmly as you can and head for a place where the only sound you will hear is the squeaking of the snow as it accumulates beneath your boots. The serenity is overwhelming, but if you stay long enough the oppressing silence turns into a kind of soothing massage for the mind, causing thoughts to vanish. The moment is totally yours. The union of soul and snow is irreversible and Dartmouth is a great place to do this. It's been happening to people here for over 200 years and will probably continue to happen for another two hundred.

Maybe a new way of thinking about winter is what people need; an "attitude change." I think I'll help by teaching all my friends to ski, hitting the campus like an evangelist, preaching winter as my savior. To me, winter and Dartmouth cannot be separated, for the College's history is tied to the tradition of winter. Dartmouth had the first ski team of any American college and held the first Winter Carnival race in 1911 against McGill University. Winter was here before we were, offering her bounties to those who first ventured north. Now people come here to enjoy the winter wonderland that the College and its surrounding areas have created.

If you haven't been back to Hanover in a while, maybe you could pack a little snow for the carnival sculpture, or catch a hockey game down at the rink. Basketball season will be in full gear or you can head for Freshman Hill with sled in hand. Granted, Hanover is always beautiful, but in the wintertime it is enchanting'. As one of Dartmouth's favorite sons (and this is Robert Frost) expressed it, one way to know it is to let yourself be touched by winter's magic. . .

The way a crowShook down on meThe dust of snowfrom a hemlock tree

Has given my hearta change of moodAnd saved some partof a day I had rued.