On the left you can see the weather at the end of Thursday.
On the right it’s the start of the new day, Friday.
On Thursday night, going home it was a mess. It had rained all day
sort of a soupy, slushy mess of wet goo. Every corner had about a
foot of water you had to step in, around or through to get across
the street. Let me tell you it gets annoying.
I walked across Bleecker Street heading toward the subway, at
about 7pm. It looks nice here, but it was a wet mess.
The snow was wet wet wet and heavy.
By 5:30 the next morning there was a different picture as I left
my apartment on 30th Street. This was the height of the storm.
Big thick, fluffy snowflakes everywhere.
Here’s Park Avenue. No cars in sight. It was impossible driving,
though a bus crawled past me at one point.
The over-busy construction site was drawn to a lull.
This was Bleecker Street from the vantage point of the
old Portuguese Church on Carmine Street.
Across from the church are two planters full of tiny trees.
Here’s the view of my studio street, Bedford Street.
Looking down the block toward my tiny sign.
I was the last person to see the entrance steps look like this.
I cleared each step as I walked down.
I went inside and put my things away and went out to shovel.
My boy Robbie came out to keep me company and try to
figure out what had happened.
He kept going out all morning and coming back in covered
with wet snow. I regret I didn’t call him Snowball.