Snow Day

I woke up this morning and looked out my window to see perfect white. The cars, streets, trees, park, everything white and the snow was still coming down. I walked out of IHouse and Claremont, usually a street full of speeding cars, was silent with only a few cars barely going over 10 mph as they maneuvered the unshoveled streets. It could have been Main St. in some Midwestern town. Once I turned the corner and onto Broadway the snow turned to brown slush. When I reached the outdoor subway platform the snow was blue, thanks to the colored salt.

As I walked the slushy, slippery streets of Manhattan and watched other people waddling akwardly, I felt something lift in the city. People were friendlier. A woman near my reached down and made a little snowball, just to drop it and watch its indentation in the snow. One man seemed to be jumping from puddle to puddle, though I have to believe he was trying to miss them. I found myself able to smile at and with people as I slid around. I have never seen larger snowflakes.