Reflection

I’ve been thinking about when I first fell in love with computers. It started early—somewhere around the third or fourth grade. Our first family computer was a 486, running some version of Windows and, more importantly, MS‑DOS. I remember typing random commands into that black screen, trying to make sense of it. I wasn’t very good at it, but it felt like magic.

Last January, I found myself trudging through slush-filled streets, my fingers numb despite gloves, mentally calculating how many more weeks until spring. A bitter wind whipped between Manhattan’s buildings, creating urban wind tunnels that cut straight through my layers. I don’t love winter. It’s certainly my least favourite season. While I grew up in a relatively cold place with an unpleasant winter, I wouldn’t say I’m better adapted to it than anyone else. I do, however, have an appreciation for the seasons and I try to (begrudgingly) enjoy winter just as much as summer.