It was pretty wimpy as far as snowstorms go -- only 6 inches. No roads had to be closed that I know of, and it happened on the weekend, which was very convenient, trafficwise.
Still, it was great to see the snow.
I've always loved snow.
When I was a kid, snow was the glorious present from the universe that might close school for an entire day or days.
It was the soft, luscious white stuff that might offer me a chance to make some real money. Twenty bucks for shoveling out a walkway and a driveway. If I did three in a day, I could practically move out on my own, or so I thought at the grand old age of 10.
In my now-20 years in NYC, I never tire of the wonder of this soft, white blanket covering my city, muffling its sounds until all of Manhattan seems to purr.
To me this wondrous sheet of cotton is pure peace.
Well ... yeah ... by the next morning, it's either speckled in yellow by dogs, turned brown by car exhaust or simply relegated to the role of nuisance by any who drive, but still, all in all, I love the snow.
Things feel quiet today. I can hear the plip-plop of bits of snow falling off the trees as the temperature warms up just enough to get things melting. From a distance, someone shovels snow on the roof and tosses it over the side. It lands with a soft slump, like laundry being tossed it into a basket.
I don't know why it is that as much as I love open skies, trees, flowers all the usual bits of nature, nothing moves me more than watching this busy city in the snow.
Maybe it's something about finding beauty in rough places.
These are the same heartstrings that get a resounding yoink when I find a wildflower peeking out of the cracks of a sidewalk or a small community garden in Alphabet City, turning trash into roses.
You can keep your ranches and your farms and your nature trails (although a back yard would be nice one day).
I've got icicles clinging to the chins of brownstones and children throwing snowballs at taxicabs.
I've got the sensation that while I?m looking out my window at the snow, so are millions of my neighbors, all at the same time, all saying nothing, all thinking, for just this one moment, absolutely nothing.
Damn!
I love New York.
