The greatest storm of the new millennium blanketed Harvard this week with an overwhelming nine inches of snow. Students and staff were forced to don winter jackets and big boots. Many Harvardians had to trudge through more than two inches of slush. Residents of the Quad temporarily entered hibernation. For a moment, students lamented that they had not chosen the subterranean tunnels of the other institution of higher education in Cambridge.

Unfortunately, the Blizzard of 2001 was blown far out of proportion. Students had excitedly awaited the promised three feet of snow and howling winds, yearning for a true dose of nature's wrath. Groups carefully decided how they would frolic; local hardware stores had a field day selling salt and shovels. We wanted the blizzard because we wanted the camaraderie of the collective struggle. We also sought the puerile joy of snowball fights and cancelled classes. A monstrous nor'easter has more potential unifying power than the Game. Deep in our gut, we know that fair Harvard could benefit from a little more communitas.

But after all the hoopla, Mother Nature did not listen to the meteorologists. Certainly, the storm did wreak havoc in isolated locales, including the beachfront of Massachusetts. Yet, overall, the nor'easter was a pseudo-blizzard. Mother Nature has once again humbled the National Weather Service and the Weather Channel. The meteorologists reminded us of political pundits on election night--a little too certain, a little too fast. The raw power of nature to confound human expectations and defy human control was revealed, not in an earth-shattering storm, but in the lack of one.

Sunny skies returned to Cambridge yesterday. The walkways of the Yard are clear and the trees are rapidly losing their white highlights. But enjoy the sunshine while it lasts; forecasters are predicting the next Storm of the Century for Friday--or at least several inches of light snow.