In the (almost) 6 years I've lived in NY I've always wanted to walk through Central Park in a snowstorm. But not owning any snowboots, or indeed knowing anyone foolhardy enough to attempt the quest with me, I'd never done it - until yesterday. I thought: I have the afternoon off. I have snowboots on. I have a coat on. Gloves. Hat. Camera. Nothing to do. Why not?
And unlike so many things in life which one plays up in their head to be more than it actually is - it was every bit as beautiful as I thought it would be. Even more. It was early in the day - around 1 PM, so the snow was coming down thickly, covering every surface with powder, but it was just before the wind kicked up and the real blizzard started. So, it was perfect timing.
I walked my familiar path, the one I have memorized in my head and could almost walk blindfolded, determined to see all of my favorite things draped in the unusual contours of the snow.
By the way, on all of these pics, be sure to click through and see the large size, because the small version just doesn't cut it. :)
I loved the white strangeness of this world, the soft wetness in the air as clumps of coldness hit your face and eyes. I walked so long my coat was damp and snow began melting on my hat and dripping into my eyes. I boarded the subway a soggy mess, having to remove my coat, hat, and gloves, hanging them on the seat next to me to dry. Lucky for me it was a long ride home. In Brooklyn, the blizzard had started and the snow was painful, hitting your face like a thousand jagged edges. I arrived home looking like a human snowman. :) I think it took a full 10 minutes under a hot shower for my hands to return to normal body temperature. But, it was worth it.