I have taught on this campus for over 20 years.

Four changing seasons give a sense of permanence.

Year after year, semester after semester, class after class, leaf after leaf.

Do we get too secure, almost lazy in our assurance that Spring will always come?

This next week, “The storms are raging on the open sea.”

We are hopeful for a red sky in the night.

Knowing that there will be mornings ahead, without delight on either side.

Winter is coming.

I will never take Spring for granted again.