Editorial: When spring has almost sprung

The arrival of spring at Lehigh isn’t just a change in season — it’s a full-scale resurrection of life on campus. 

The winter months are a state of hibernation, during which the campus turns into a ghost town. Students shuffle from class to their dorms in heavy jackets with hands in pockets, barely making eye contact, just trying to get to where they need to be. 

Then suddenly, one day, it’s 60 degrees outside. 

Like clockwork, people emerge from hiding in heated buildings to embrace the open air. The lawn of the Clayton University Center transforms into a sun-soaked congregation of students lying on blankets, hanging out with friends, tossing a ball around and working on assignments while sprawled out on lawn chairs. The paths clog with joggers and those who have long waited to be outside again. 

It’s as if this campus operates in two distinct realities — winter Lehigh and spring Lehigh. And one is certainly better than the other.

Seasonal depression is real, and Lehigh’s campus is the perfect incubator for it. In Pennsylvania, 17.5% of all adults experience depressive symptoms in the winter — a statistic you can tell on Lehigh’s campus. 

The moment the clocks fall back in November, morale plummets. People stop showing up to club meetings, weekend plans become movie marathons alone in bed and many check out of the social atmosphere, as the mere thought of voluntarily stepping into the icy temperatures seems unbearable. 

Then, in the blink of an eye, the warmth returns. And so does the will to live. 

The cruel joke? We only get a few weeks of this before summer sends us all packing. Sure, the beginning of fall gets romanticized with its changing leaves and cozy sweaters, but fall is just the countdown to winter. Spring, on the other hand, is pure freedom — a fleeting taste of the peak Lehigh experience. 

As if the weather wasn’t already an emotional rollercoaster, climate change has made it worse. Today, on average, winters are warmer with more precipitation, and temperatures fluctuate wildly. One day it’s a frozen tundra, and the next, it’s weirdly warm yet cloudy and dreary. 

This inconsistency makes it hard to settle into a routine, but it’s more than just inconvenient. It takes a real toll on students’ mental health. 

Mood shifts are undeniable as weather wavers, driven by the breaking out of the seasonal slump and the rediscovering of the joy of being part of a community. In the winter, everything feels monotonous. Here, you go to class, do your work, eat your meals and then retreat to your room. 

Social interactions also dwindle as everyone rushes to class, braving the cold for as little time as possible. In addition to the loss of passing interactions, no one wants to trudge through the snow or freezing high winds to hang out. 

But spring erases that isolation. People linger outside before and after class, making last minute plans, and embrace the spontaneity that winter strips away. It’s a reminder that college is about more than just surviving and that it’s supposed to be about living, learning and creating memories to hold onto. 

The second the temperature hits just 55 degrees, winter coats are tossed off with reckless abandon. Sundresses, shorts and sunglasses make their first appearances of the year, even if the weather isn’t yet fully committed to spring. There’s something about the first day of warmth that makes everyone want to act as if the season is in full swing.

Suddenly sitting outside of Saxby’s or on Lehigh’s front lawn feels like the best seat in town. It’s as if the entire school has collectively decided to lean into the good vibes while they last.

Yet, similar to fall, spring at Lehigh is seemingly gone as soon as it starts. One moment, it’s the perfect 65-degree day, and the next, we’re hit with a 90-degree heatwave that makes us regret every time we prayed for warmth. Further, before we know it, finals season is here, and the stress of the semester’s last stretch overshadows the fleeting beauty of campus in bloom. 

So, we have to take what we can get and relish in the small joys. 

Take a moment to notice the weight lifted off your shoulders when you’re no longer squeezing the straps of your backpack over your parka. Write your next essay on the front lawn where you can take in the sights of the green grass, blooming flowers and passers by. 

Take these next few weeks to remember what this campus has to offer, because soon enough, the semester will end, we will all embark on our summer plans, and we’ll once again be longing for the days when Lehigh felt just right.