Global Warming Is Real

     It got up to 70 degrees in Philly today! It was so lovely. It was nice yesterday too, and it's heartwarming to see everyone hanging out at Beury Beach and in front of the residence halls, reading and doing homework and tossing footballs or frisbees around. Today was an Experience Temple Day, so a bunch of high schoolers and their parents (and siblings and grandparents and aunts and uncles) were roaming around campus. I do not miss those days one bit. TJ and I went for a run at Fairmount Park today and I died after two miles. He wasn't even out of breath. (Insert scornful side eye emoji). We signed up to run a five mile race on March 25th, so I have a month to get in better shape. Anyway, while we were running I was kind of composing a sort-of essay or something in my head (before I started dying) so here's that I guess.

     The air is crisp, in an in-between-seasons kind of way and for a minute I can't decide whether it feels more like the end of fall or the beginning of spring. They're much the same in a lot of ways; the dead leaves and barren trees and the lightness of the air. But they couldn't be more opposite in what they bring: death and new life. I was ready for the latter. I concentrate on making my footsteps light and try breathing slowly and deeply. Beside me, TJ jogs with an easy, gazelle-like bounce. He isn't even breathing hard. A gang of guys on four-wheelers and motorcycles roar past on the street beside us, popping wheelies and looking like idiots. For a minute, the sound of my feet slapping against the pavement is drowned out; I feel lighter now and a breeze picks up, brushing softly against my bare arms. Up ahead, a bright yellow van selling Italian Water Ice & Cold Drinks plays ice cream truck music as a gaggle of teenagers stands around, BSing and enjoying the cold sweetness of it all. We wind our way along the path and through a slightly wooded area close to the road. It feels like fall in here; the dying sunlight doesn't quite reach and the trees are bare; dead leaves gathered in dead clumps by the roots. We pass a big yellow house and I wonder aloud if anyone actually lives there before seeing the sign out front that says Laurel Hill Mansion; it's clear that it's a museum now. But someone did live there, at one point, in that big yellow house overlooking the park. We continue on and as we make our way through the loop, I catch the thick, skunk-like stench of marijuana every so often and it makes me sad. Sad that anyone needs anything to help them enjoy a day like today besides the day itself. Isn't this beautiful, imperfect world enough of a high? But then again, I suppose I haven't seen much of it yet, this beautiful, imperfect world. Not enough to get beaten down and jaded by it. I still love the magic of early-spring days in mid-February.

Day 1177 Song Recommendation: "You" by Phillip LaRue.
Day 1178 Song Recommendation: "Here With Me" by Susie Suh & Robot Koch. This song played at the end of an episode of Containment and it was so perfect and poignant and sad. You can tell if a show is going to be good based solely on its soundtrack, in my opinion.
Day 1179 Song Recommendation: "Never Going Back" by Caveman.
Day 1180 Song Recommendation: "Right Here For You" by the Native Sibling.
Day 1181 Song Recommendation: "Here and Now" by Flannel Graph.

-SE Wagner