This afternoon I filled my travel mug with coffee, laced up my snow boots and walked around Boerum Hill and Cobble Hill in Brooklyn. This is what I saw:
The buildings are old and lovable with their many shades of weathered red brick, fortressed in by high, steep, often crumbling front steps and scraggly branched trees, unintentionally buffered from passersby who might be tempted to loiter by barely shoveled, narrow walkways. With boots, this is exactly the kind of snowy day walk I love.
Kids bundled-up and walking around like penguins through the mildest piles of snow, couples strolling down the snowiest blocks with coffee from one of two dozen neighborhood cafes that opened their doors today (for couples who would be taking just those kinds of strolls and would be looking for coffee…), lone walkers taking in the quiet- standing in the middle of deserted side-streets free of cars. What a comforting sight, to see that this city is capable of slowing down for nature and its residents blossom heart-wise in the midst of official closures, folding like wee ones to the simple authority of something like weather.