So, it snowed.
It's amazing how everything becomes so still. Trees topple under the
weight of the snow, blocking streets. Cars are useless. Plows have nowhere to put the mounds of snow, and so they sit until nature takes its course. Everyone is kept circumscribed to their neighborhoods, and I'm not convinced this is a bad thing. Neighbors wave to one another, they pet each others' dogs and ask if anyone needs anything. Stores that can be open stay open late to accommodate people who tramp snow in the front door, shaking it off of their boots and out of their faces, coming in to pick up something for dinner. People come out with their cameras and sketch pads. The streets are crowded with bodies as opposed to cars. It's what the city would be like if no one commuted, if we were truly a village.
These pictures are labeled Part I because, apparently, there is more snow on the way. I have been fortunate to be snowed in with kind friends and neighbors, and the luxury of being able to walk everywhere I need to go. My car is buried under a snowdrift somewhere on a side street and I'm pretty sure I won't see it again until sometime next week.
It's amazing how everything becomes so still. Trees topple under the
weight of the snow, blocking streets. Cars are useless. Plows have nowhere to put the mounds of snow, and so they sit until nature takes its course. Everyone is kept circumscribed to their neighborhoods, and I'm not convinced this is a bad thing. Neighbors wave to one another, they pet each others' dogs and ask if anyone needs anything. Stores that can be open stay open late to accommodate people who tramp snow in the front door, shaking it off of their boots and out of their faces, coming in to pick up something for dinner. People come out with their cameras and sketch pads. The streets are crowded with bodies as opposed to cars. It's what the city would be like if no one commuted, if we were truly a village.These pictures are labeled Part I because, apparently, there is more snow on the way. I have been fortunate to be snowed in with kind friends and neighbors, and the luxury of being able to walk everywhere I need to go. My car is buried under a snowdrift somewhere on a side street and I'm pretty sure I won't see it again until sometime next week.
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