The world seems crackly today. Snow last night and rain this morning means there’s slushy ice on all the sidewalks, a bubbly coating that either stays firm or crunches and caves under your feet. Even crashing through the ice, footprints don’t stay long as rain blurs their lines. The tree branches are encased in ice but it’s beginning to wash away, and sections of ice and snow on the roof are crumbling and smashing down.
I’m studying for final exams now, and while it is going okay, there’s a lot left to cover in the next two days, and my calm concentration feels like the crust on the sidewalks—currently holding, but who knows which step will splash down into stress and panic.
Yet even the potential panic is just a thin layer, and under it is the knowledge that my final, no matter how it goes, will be over soon, and soon I will be done with the semester. I’m really looking forward to relaxing, spending time with friends and taking time for myself.
So each slab of crackly ice that shatters off the roof and makes me jump when it hits the courtyard is one more minute ticking by, breaking away from this semester and beginning to free the relief and promise of a fresh start underneath.