This morning’s walk was all about frost: every twig, every branch, every marcescent leaf or ash samara was outlined in white. Close up, it was beautiful. Far away, magnificent. I took a few pictures, but the light wind froze my fingers, and I decided to enjoy the spectacle without documenting it.
While I trudged along, I thought about today’s classes: two three-hour lectures, courses I’ve never taught before. The first class is all about first impressions; if I’m not quite on my game, if my body language or tone of voice doesn’t send the right message, the results will cling to me for the rest of the semester. A lot is at stake.
I thought that the southeast breeze might knock down the frost, but as I got closer to the university, I realized that it was bringing an ice fog with it. That fog was recoating whatever the wind blew off. It was also nipping at my nose and cheeks. I was happy to get to the campus and open the front door of the building where my office is. Now, after my lunchtime apple, I have to get ready to perform. Wish me luck.
