And they say snow never sticks in the city... but this was no light dusting of frost, this was a coastal blizzard. For most people snow in New York means trudging through a gray sloppy mess, train problems, and canceled flights. But for that short while as it comes down I always think it's beautiful. Tall buildings and garbage disappear, and everything smells and sounds crisp.
Saturday, after my morning coffee and bagel I armed myself with my camera and put on my boots and thermals. I got ready to venture out into the cold.
From my window I could see that the snow had already covered stoops, cars and streets as the wind began to pick up. Constant efforts to shovel sidewalks were quickly abandoned.
The streets were far from empty as people ran their errands. We were all advised to buy extra batteries and canned goods, but some kids headed towards the park with sleds and garbage lids instead. Can you blame— when will we see this again?
Everything on the street is transformed. Snowed capped fences resembled wedding cakes more than wrought iron. Fireplugs become litte snowmen; razor wire turns into spiraling wreaths; sidewalk grates become large waffles. I think side streets like Carlton are the prettiest.
Within hours newly plowed streets were covered again and the temperature dropped to 27°. I'm not very good with the cold. I retreated to Little Miss Muffin Bakery for jerk chicken patties and ginger beer, and headed home.