CENTRAL PARK SNOW
Weather. I am a part of the weather at all times. We of a carless class don’t travel from house to garage to car to parking garage to office, never without some sort of cover overhead. Whatever the skies decide to unleash on any given day, we’re right there to receive it – for better or worse, for wetter or drier. I actually own rain boots and multiple umbrellas for purpose, not just because they’re cute. I own snow boots, too, and have worn them day after day after day for weeks at a time, knowing regular shoes will never survive climbing over the banks of snow that get dumped at sidewalk crossings. For a place I wouldn’t necessarily call outdoorsy, I sure am outdoors a lot.
It can all feel like quite a mess, really… with one exception. Snow Accumulation Day #1. It’s the only time you’ll find the city humbled down to a hush. The effect is amazing. You walk outside and it’s actually quiet, like the city has been caught being rambunctious again, so it tucked its tail, retreated to a closet and can be found pouting under a pile of white laundry. “Fine. I won’t honk my horns… until tomorrow. Mwah ah ah.”
Snow is magical.
Therefore, moment numero six is when I went sledding in Central Park for the first time along with a bazillion other folks who shared my backyard. I threw snowballs at statue butts, borrowed a stranger’s inner tube for a different thrill and went sledding down the Bethesda Fountain stairs. Snow turns the park into a level playing field of fun.
For that matter, another popular/famous/well-silver-screened winter activity in the park is ice skating. I finally got around to checking that off the list last winter. Now all that’s missing from my wonderland of white is John Cusack.