It's Galing, We're Harking

gale, n. 1. a. A wind of considerable strength [OED definition]

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I've always thought "Hark Upon the Gale" was a curious motto. "When the wind blows, listen up." Seems like good advice. Along the same lines as Hogwarts's draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, "Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon." It's just good advice.

After three solid days of rain and gales, from Wednesday to Friday, my rainboots have finally dried out. The fringes of Hurricane Ida, I think? Whatever storm was going along the coast. I don't know what it is about Williamsburg, or what meteorological phenomenon that must surround it, but we seem to get an inordinate amount of rain here. If last week was any indication, our weather is positively diluvian. Williamsburg is the Seattle of Virginia.

With all the uneven brick of old campus, it makes for a patchwork of puddles, particularly after such Biblical rain. Upon my acceptance to the College, a friend informed me as we walked through old campus in the rain, "If you are a connoisseur of puddles, then William & Mary is for you." One must always be prepared to fall on one's ass when walking through old campus, combating the chaotic and unexpected rise and fall of ancient bricks; to have the additional level of difficulty that is water, it's just cruel.

Photo of TJ in Thursday's rain, courtesy of
the Office of University Relations (Twitter account: WMNews)

The gales of wind on Thursday morning were so tempestuous that all umbrellas brought into my morning class were broken, or at least severely tweaked. I'd never in real life seen an umbrella turn inside-out before, like in the cartoons, but the passion of a Williamsburg rainstorm was enough to best my cheap umbrella. The truly poor souls, however, were the students without umbrellas. Drenched, they squelched into every building, their soaked shoes leaving great imprints of misery upon the floor. To not own an umbrella seems an absurd concept to me, but the girl who sits next to me in the aforementioned broken-umbrella class claims that she was unaware of the dire need of an umbrella that arises from living here, because while it rains elsewhere, it rains here.

We came up with the following solution to this ignorance, so please take note of this, whomever puts together those "What to Bring to College" lists from the Admissions Office: on the very top of that list should be "an umbrella". Before computers and lava lamps and toothbrushes, an umbrella should be on that list. Applicants to the College should be adequately forewarned of the soggy future that awaits them at W&M. While beautiful, picturesque, and brimming with delightfully pretentious elitism, William & Mary is rainy. Hark, and come prepared for gales.