Wucken Feather
I remember when I got on the tour at Babson when I visited over the summer. I was amazed at how gorgeous the campus was; lush greenery, brilliant flowers, freshly laid mulch. but that’s the summer….even Afghanistan would look nice with a few tulips and some peat moss. I should've toured in mid march, when we were receiving our 89th inch of snow for the season, and every living thing around you is dead….except the squirrels. those rapscallions seem to flourish in this place, despite any weather conditions.
I know you're saying “if you don’t like the weather, why did you come here?” fact of the matter is, I've lived in new England for about 14 years, never once have I complained about the weather. i'm a snowboarder, love the snow…love it. but that was when I was at home, and wasn’t burdened with the nations number one homework load and days that start at 8am and end at mid-night.
I notice the poor weather much more at Babson than I ever did when I was home. in my opinion, there's nothing better than a new England summer night. beautiful breeze, perfect temperature. slightly cool. perfect. but that’s the summer.
It's like there's an invisible wall that lines the perimeter of Babson, extending to the upper atmosphere, that corrals all the clouds, rain, snow, and generally bad dreary weather to directly above babson. Barefoot carries a key around his neck that unlocks the giant window near the top of the wall that lets the weather out.
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