Photos © 2010 Brian Adams
Yesterday, snow began to fall in Brooklyn, steadily dusting the streets, sidewalks, and trees with white lace. Brian and I walked several miles through Prospect Park to our favorite lakeside bench and returned bearded and coated in snow, but we had no idea that by the afternoon, all of New York City would be frozen in a weather-driven panic. The streets in our neighborhood piled with snowfall, cars crawled with their hazards flashing, cyclones of wind and flakes obscured our view of the building across the street; we even heard several neighbors say that it felt like the end of the world.
Perhaps the most astounding thing is this: The New York Times wasn't even delivered--not to the corner stores nor any of our neighbors.
This morning, however, despite the wash of white that buried cars and stoops, the feeling was much different; families walked in the middle of the streets together, pulling children in sleds, and strangers smiled and said hello to us everywhere we went. Everyone seemed cheerful in spite of the cold and inconveniences, as if the entire community was united by a shared powerlessness in the face of the winter elements. It was as if Brooklyn was given a snow day--allowed to break the rules, close up shop, and walk in the street.