Albany Relocates to Arctic Region For Few Days

Only those who had no choice faced the bitter cold at Suny Albany this past Wednesday as the campus morphed into an icy concrete fortress of academia. Due to an overnight snowstorm which brought ice, rain, wind, and of course, snow, the few brave souls who didn't use the tunnels slipped and slid their whole way to class.

"It's nice, if you find death pretty," joked Joseph Stepansky, a student at the University. He was dressed in at least three or four layers, with his coat zippered only partially. He had no hat, but it was obvious he was cold by the redness of his ears and the way he shivered as a gust of wind easily found its way to our already chilled bones. Behind him, the trees wore coats of an ethereal looking whiteness; every branch, every twig was encapsuled in all of winter's icy glory. The concrete walkways of the podium were solid sheets of ice, all but a few paths which had been furiously salted and plowed. 

There was a sort of serene silence about the campus, as though the storm had brought a clean, revived energy to the area. The dirty concrete was now covered in a new coat of white, and even in the dull gray light of day, the campus shone with a bright glow. The thick blanket of snow muffed any sort of shouts or noise, thus one was left to cacophony of their mind's rambling. 

As Joseph stood, obviously longing for the warmth of the indoors, he offered one last thought, "winter has a good way of sticking around longer than you want."  It cares not for how far you must walk to class, nor how much it cramps your social life; winter must be here to stay for at least a while. And in Albany, it will most definitely be a good deal of time before the campus begins to shed its icy layering.