The Second Storm

I tried to stay up last night to watch the snow fall, but it was just a few brazen flakes by the time I fell asleep. When I woke up, the world was freshly under roughly 9 inches of snow with the sun shining, and no signs at all of the furious storm that left us with the thick powder.





When I left for work around 8:15, my blocks had not be plowed, and the first shovelers were outside working on their own door front walkways. This meant I was stepping in and trudging through almost a foot of fresh snow. It felt really weird to be in the middle of the city, walking to the subway as though I was exploring a winter forest.

There was a taxi pulled over to the corner in a state of defeat, a team of 3 men helping to push a car that could not get out of the dirty snow in the street, and a bus that had half-turned a corner before giving up, and everyone started filing out. It sure was beautiful to see everything so fresh, and Central Park was just a vision of white.

Midtown was so much more adjusted and plowed. The cars and taxis were all kicking up sludge and slush in the street, it almost looked like they were driving on a foot of water. In short: slush: gross, snow: good!