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A Hate Letter To The Happy Valley Wind

We’ve all felt it. It’s blowing your perfectly done hair. It’s whipping your clothes against your body. It keeps you glued in place as you try to continue walking against it.

The Happy Valley wind is back, folks.

Before I came to Penn State last year, I never considered myself someone who was particularly “anti-wind.” I quickly realized that was because I’d never experienced a day as windy as any given winter day in State College.

Now, I only took one year of earth science in high school, but it was my understanding that valleys are not supposed to be that windy because of the hills surrounding them. Either I was severely mistaken, or Happy Valley defies all rules of science and physics. It’s most likely the latter option.

The wind tunnels that form on campus and downtown are truly remarkable. One time last year, I physically could not take a step while walking to a meeting because I was trapped in such a bad gust in between two buildings. If you don’t believe me, you haven’t experienced a Penn State winter yet.

Now that the temperature has started to drop and the gales are returning, I’m remembering just how miserable it was to walk around last year from November to March.

One foot out the door, and any primping you’ve done to your hair and makeup goes out the window. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows and have to ignore the fact that it looks like my hair is blowing around like a toupee.

After just one winter season here, I’ve decided that a windy day is the biggest nuisance of any weather category. A rainy day can be stopped by a good umbrella, snow at least looks nice as it falls, and a regular cold day can be thwarted by wearing a dozen layers. Wind is just wind. It can’t be avoided.

It is almost impossible to protect against it, regardless of how you bundle up, because any seam or exposed hole in your clothes lets the frigid air in. I show up everywhere wind-burnt and chapped.

I’m fully aware that I am complaining way too prematurely, and the wind and weather are only going to worsen exponentially as the days drag on, but each cold blow of air to the face is just an early reminder of what is to come, and I, for one, am not looking forward to it.

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About the Author

Maggie Alderisio

Maggie is a junior from Albany, New York majoring in broadcast journalism and English. She enjoys skiing, music, sarcastic banter, and staying up until ungodly hours of the night. You can find her on Instagram @maggiealderisio, email her at [email protected], or bump into her eating a bagel in the Irvings basement.

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