Now that the excitement of the snow day has worn off, I’ve heard people all over campus lamenting the relentlessly dark, cold, and snowy environment we find ourselves in. In fact, each year, for as long as I can remember, I’ve listened to people all over the region claim that New England winters are simply too long, hard, and dull: Any warmer climate is worth sacrificing the benefits of living here. 

I don’t like my fingers going numb on the way to class or struggling over snowbanked sidewalks more than anyone else, but dismissing these months as nothing but suffering is missing an opportunity. Call me sentimental, or desperate for a positive outlook, but I think winter has a lot to offer us. 

For one thing, there are few sights as alluring as snowflakes drifting gracefully in the wind. They may transform into gray sludge overnight and wreak havoc on thousands of expensive sneakers, but is anything nicer looking than a fresh white coat of snow over our pristine campus? 

Hockey, skiing, and snowboarding are important cultural mainstays, enabled only by these wintry conditions. And if the gleeful screams and laughter coming from Upper and the Mods over the snowday weekend were any indication, playing in the snow is an enjoyable pastime at any age. 

I won’t pretend the entirety of the season is filled with as much whimsy. As weeks of assignments build up and “feels-like” temperatures refuse to surface above freezing, I, too, feel the weight of winter’s challenges. I don’t experience seasonal depression or the milder winter blues (as many as 20 percent of people in New England do), but it’s certainly harder to get out of bed when waking to slush, clouds, and gusts up to 40 miles per hour. 

What makes these months so difficult, though, is also what makes them so valuable: Adversity breeds resilience. 

Scandinavia is known for its dark, freezing winters, yet they have some of the consistently highest happiness rates in the world. Why? Because they embrace the cold, seeing it not as a struggle against the elements but as an opportunity for celebration. 

They are brought up believing winter to be a valuable time for outdoor gathering—bundled up, of course. Motivation to go outside in frigid temperatures can be hard to muster at first, but spending time in nature is scientifically proven to make us feel happier, more optimistic, and more driven. 

At the same time, winter’s encouragement to relax indoors is meaningful in its own right. Hygge, the Danish word for cozy, represents the satisfaction one derives from appreciating the small comforts of home. It serves as a mantra for a nation that spends much of the year in the dark, relying on candles, blankets, warm meals, and other simple pleasures for contentment.

Now that “bed rotting” seems to have become a legitimate hobby for our generation, perhaps we can take inspiration from the Danish and view our time indoors with gratitude: a special indulgence facilitated by winter rather than a compulsive retreat from it. 

There is a toughness that is difficult to measure but palpable in those who live and work in cold climates. Navigating the elements forces us to work harder to accomplish what we please. This reality creates a lot of inconvenience, yes, but it also trains us to be adaptable and open to uncertainty. 

Ask any New Englander about their favorite childhood memories, and they’re likely to include a snow-related activity. These stories are more than a remembrance of good times—they represent a triumph over nature, the ability to work with our environment instead of being overwhelmed by it. 

Overcoming challenges provides us with a renewed sense of meaning. Winter’s challenges are predictable and effectively guaranteed to be defeated with the eventual arrival of spring, so they only serve to enhance our purpose. 

If you still insist on scorning this season, just think of how happy you’ll be when you recognize the first hints of spring. At the very least, these long, chilly months encourage a greater appreciation for their sunny and warm counterparts. 

So next time you feel like complaining about the frigid breeze and ugly snow piles scattered throughout campus, I invite you to consider the meaningful experiences winter has brought you—whether directly or by strengthening your sense of dedication. After all, we have at least six more weeks to go.