First freeze hit the quad at sunrise, right on schedule with midterm panic. You could see the collective realization setting in at seven forty-five as hundreds of us shuffled out of dorm doorways with hands shoved deep into coat pockets that have not seen daylight since last March.
Radiators and Scraped Windshields
The brick pathways between the library and the dining hall become an icy runway before the grounds crew gets out with salt buckets. Inside the aging lecture halls, ancient iron radiators clank into life with a hiss that drowns out half the professor's morning opening remarks.
The Unofficial Uniform of Late November
Sweatpants pulled over oversized thrift store sweaters have officially taken over the library basement. Nobody is trying to impress anyone when the wind pulls thirty-degree air straight off the river and blasts it across the open green.