New York has finally welcomed it’s first major winter storm.
White, fluffy, powdery snowflakes spiraled down from the sky, brushing through the skyscrapers before gracefully landing on the ground. Our wild concrete jungle had never looked this tame and peaceful. The sea of pure, silvery snow stretched out to the horizon. No footprints to be seen.
And I decided to go out and take a walk in Central Park.
I mean, how often do you get to see this? Deserted streets, zero traffic, only the sound of the horse-drawn carriages passing by in the snow…I couldn’t possibly miss this opportunity to see a facade of the city I’d never seen before.
The snow finally subsided, leaving me to admire the clear sky under the wings of the angel.
I strolled into the setting sun, shaking snow off my tail, warming myself up under the glorious warm rays.
And shared the view with a friend I ran into, also shaking snow off its tail.
I walked home feeling beyond grateful for being able to live in this ever-changing city that looks different everyday but is always breathtakingly beautiful.