The Ephemeral Illinois Winter

By Daniel Stankus on November 26, 2014

People complain about winter too often. It might make a commute worse or waking up in the morning that much more difficult, but winter always sets the mood for existential thoughts. I’ve asked myself the question, “What am I doing with my life?” far more frequently in these cold months as opposed to in the idle summer days. Vivid memories of “this is the human experience” still remain.

When I was a sophomore, I hated my job at Ikenberry Dining Hall. One wintery evening, I was walking home down Daniel after a dinner shift ended. I was listening to the “Senor and the Queen” EP by The Gaslight Anthem contemplating how much work sucked. I questioned why I continued this job, although I had only recently been hired, and what really was the point.

But I looked up, as I treaded beneath the orange glow of the streetlights in the dark, swaying to Gaslight, and feeling the snow fall upon my face, and my thoughts were sobered; quiet. I looked at the few visible stars, which became clouded by my breath in the cold air. I quit the job soon after.

Last fall, the girl I dearly liked was abroad in Paris. It made me regret not going abroad myself and after barely succeeding in being able to apply past the deadline, I regularly questioned the motives of my actions. One late evening, walking home from my new job at the Undergraduate Library, I noticed that I was talking to myself about if what I was currently experiencing constituted an existential crisis.

I was trodding up Wright St, and it was uncharacteristically cold, even for late fall in the Midwest, so not a soul was to be seen. I approached the Espresso Royale on the corner of Daniel and the neon lights cast an eerie glow through the winter haze, which illuminated the fantastical world my mind projected onto this situation.

“Orange County Suite” from The Doors’ rarity album was playing. The song belongs in a 30′s film-noir movie, where I’d be wearing a trench coat, a fedora and smoking a cigarette to display my cynicism of the world. I decided it was, and exhaled a hard sigh and watched my breath join the phantasmal mist of idealism floating in the intersection.

Now a senior, I actively choose to walk through this new cold and snow rather than take a bus, in order to contemplate the remaining time I have left at this university. I’ve been biking to and from class and work, now from Urbana, and listening to The Tallest Man on Earth’s album “The Wild Hunt.”

Just a man and his guitar, I’ve become obsessed with his Springsteen-esque descriptions of life. In particular, the title track includes the lyrics, “…and I plan to be forgotten when I’m gone.” I get the chills every time I hear the line.

Gone: from childhood, youth, this school and eventually life itself. I’ve enjoyed this semester more than any other on campus and I don’t want to leave. But like the seasons, my time here is ephemeral.

http://mkalty.org/winter-night-in-the-park/

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