Chill jams

(Photo: Nick Holland)
(Photo: Nick Holland)

The scene: You have no interest in going outside any more than necessary. With makeshift padding from scarves and your coat, the window benches of the NAB atrium become your lounge between classes. The warm air gusts up from the vents underneath you and you press your face to the icy windowpane beside you, letting it soothe your weary eyes.
The song: Soon It Will Be Cold Enough To Build Fires – Emancipator
The scene: The bus finally approaches the curb. You only get a little splattered with salty sludge. There’s a window seat free and you sink into it, snatching your toque off your head and holding it in your lap for the rest of the ride. It’s only 4:50 p.m. but already the tree branches are just black slashes on a reddening sky. All day you imagined it was Friday. It is Wednesday.
The song: Yes I’m Changing – Tame Impala
The scene: You’re walking home after class. It is mid-afternoon.  Plucking your headphones from your ears, you’re startled to find the world has gone silent except for your own boots cracking the days-old crust of snow. This is your kingdom now. It’s just you and the flakes.
The song: The Woods – Daughter
The scene: You pull the door tightly behind you and heave a sigh of relief. The slush has soaked your jeans and plastered them to your legs, wrapping you in a deep chill. You pull them off, put on a fresh pair of sweatpants and fire up the kettle. You feel the warmth sweep over you along with a wave of gratitude to be inside — for now.
The song: I Would Like to Call It Beauty – Corinne Bailey Rae
The scene: It’s Saturday and you have nowhere to be. You surprise your roommates with a stack of pancakes and sit around the kitchen table, pulling your hands into your sleeves and wrapping them around mugs of hot coffee. The winter sunlight is clear and uncompromising and shoos the sleep from your eyes. Maybe you’ll go for a walk in the park today.
The song: Warm Foothills – Alt-J
The scene: You’re heading to bed. The last one awake, you make the rounds, turning off lights and checking the locks. In the beam of the streetlight you can see it’s started to snow, the first fresh coating in at least a week. You pull the duvet over you in bed and pretend you’re a squirrel in hibernation.
The song: 4:35 a.m. – Gemma Hayes

By David J. Shuman

David is the current editor-in-chief of The Watch and writes on student issues and events. Find him on Twitter: @DavidJShuman

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