Even as a self-professed adversary of New England winters, I felt a slight existential pang of shock when our outdoor thermostat hit 65 degrees. While nothing can dethaw my college decision stress like a warm breeze in the middle of February, something seemed off. As I went for a walk down my street in a short-sleeved T-shirt, a sense of guilt loomed over my attempt to partake in the comfortable weather.
Was it my knowledge that the uncharacteristically warm weather we all enjoy so much can contribute to the degradation of our ozone layer, leading to the permanent alteration of our climate, melting our polar ice caps and degrading our environment due to unfettered human activity? I’m sure that was part of it. But something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on still actively weighed on my conscience.