Winter Wonderland. Well, Sort Of.

We got almost a foot of snow last night, and this morning I went to Central Park to take in the wintry scenery.  A city snowstorm is one of the things that rekindles my crush on New York; I love watching the swirl of white outside our window and breathing in the snow-fresh air and seeing kids run toward the park, clutching sleds.  There's something calming about standing on our block as the cars and stoops and branches become laden with fluff, and the street lamps cast shadows against the sparkling white. 

And then, the next morning, the supers start scraping their shovels against the sidewalks before six, waking me from ocean-deep sleep, and I venture out only to find that the pristine snow has been mottled with yellow and someone's written an obscenity with their hands in the accumulation on the side of a car. 

Even though the block was no longer heart-swelling in its beauty by the time I got up, the park is always worth exploring in the snow, so I headed over with the little camera and about ten layers of clothes on, and made my way along the Bridle Path.  The snow was shin-deep and still blindingly white; the sun hadn't broken through the clouds and the plows had only done a quick once-over of the loop.  The air was hushed and still.  Some families were tackling the hills on sleds, lots of dogs were romping about (Miles does not romp in snow; he cowers and whimpers and stands there shivering pitifully until you carry him back inside) and plenty of die-hard runners were slogging through the powder, but a sense of quiet and solitude lingered. 

I was sort of charmed to see people cross-country skiing along the path; they must wait all year for the first of a handful of times they'll get to drag out their gear and glide around the park.  (But where do they PUT cross-country skis and boots and poles the other 364 days in their Manhattan apartments?  We hardly have room for a spare toothpick in our closets.)  There was something earnest and quaint about it, and I fancied that all of the cross-country skiers were transplanted Midwesterners who used to ski in orchards and across frozen lakes, and now embraced every opportunity to traverse the city snows. 

That is, until one of them came up alongside me and scolded me for walking in the ski tracks, because I was "messing them up."  He said it pretty nicely, and I just smiled and nodded, but my initial internal reaction was, "Oh, EXCUSE ME, Your Highness, for daring to disturb one of your PRECIOUS tracks, as if this is your own private NORDIC PLAYLAND and the rest of us have NO RIGHT to be here!"  I mean, there were several sets of ski tracks and MOST people who were on foot were walking in them because it was much easier than plundering through the ungroomed snow, which about gives you a heart attack after about five minutes. 

And then I started thinking about how maybe I should work on my kneejerk reactions to strangers, which have come to be rather on the negative side.  It's something that prolonged city living does to you, makes you assume that everyone else is being an asshole or might be harboring psychotic tendencies.  If a guy is standing on the subway directly in front of the doors and doesn't move to let people on and off, you immediately label him a clueless jerk, but you don't say anything (other than maybe a meek, "excuse me") because you don't want to start a confrontation that could result in your getting stabbed (not that people get stabbed on the subway with any kind of frequency, but YOU NEVER KNOW, and you don't want to be the one whose random, gruesome end is written up in the Metro section with a slight tone of "well, she was ASKING for it"). 

I mean, my default position in interacting with people in stores and restaurants and such is one of positivity and politeness; I don't walk around in a perpetual snit or anything.  It's just the random street and subway-type dealings that put me in a huff.  And yes, there ARE plenty of weirdos and assholes out there; I have come across a great many of them in my 12 1/2 years as a Manhattanite.  But that doesn't mean that EVERYONE is that way, or that a guy who wants to enjoy his cross-country ski outing is being unreasonable in asking me not to walk in the tracks laid by his fellow sportsman. 

Or WAS he?  I'm still not really sure.  On the one hand, it's a public park and that was a WALKING path we were all sharing there, and it's not like there are designated paths for skiing that I was violating -- in contrast, for example, to the official, demarcated biking and running lanes on the loop, which are clearly meant for specific purposes and should be honored and enforced as such.  On the other, it didn't cost me anything to walk outside the tracks made by skiers -- well, except a lot of cardiopulmonary EFFORT -- so why not accommodate this rather innocuous request out of common courtesy?  Hmm.  What do you think? 

As a side note, I ended up trudging along behind a couple of park rangers shortly after that encounter, and guess where they were walking?  Yeah.  IN THE SKI TRACKS.

Comments

[nonsoccermom]

Wow, wow wow. Phenomenal pictures. I love New York so much, I would adore the opportunity to be there this time of year.

As for the cross-country skiing scolder, I'm inclined to say he was being an asshole, but what do I know? I live in Texas.

[H]

Winter can be beautiful - and you've captured it perfectly in your photos.

I'm from an area of the country where cross country skiing is taken quite seriously. I think what happened, in your situation, is that the skiier was trying to remind you of the rules of his sport that are obvious and second nature to him, but are not so obvious to the rest of us. So...I think he needs to lighten up a little and remember that he should probably go find himself a serious cross country skiing trail if he prefers it footprint free.

[Twangypearl]

So pretty! Oh, NYC. (Nostalgic feelings ensue.)

[Ris]

I'm definitely in the knee-jerk reaction camp. I usually have a snide retort and am pretty quick on the uptake. I do live in a big city so maybe that's it, but my big city is Chicago and most midwesterners are so sweet and wholesome so maybe its just that I'm an asshole. I go back and forth on this as well--glad to know I'm not the only one, even if I don't have a satisfactory answer for us.

[Sharon Jorgenson]

well he certainly would NOT like my current landscape of snow as it contains snow angels and mounds and mounds of hillets for the kidlets to play on and near and any which way they want! Not an inch of soft pristine snow left and I LOVE IT ALL

[Sharon Jorgenson]

I really really like the 3rd pic and its composition

[Danielle-Lee]

Those pictures are so gorgeous! I would love to see NYC in winter. Sigh..someday!

[Linda]

Beautiful! Thanks for sharing these vistas.

[Beth]

Uh, I kinda think the guy is out of line. It's a park, after all, and what gives him the right to claim all the snow as his to defile?

Lovely, pictures, by the way! :-)

[Beth]

Apparently I am comma-happy today. Commas for everyone!! ;^) ,,,,,,

[kathy]

Oh, I am so bummed Adam and I missed the snow!

[Cindy M]

You SO make me want to visit NYC in the winter! I've always wanted to...finally made it there for a day last summer, but it is totally without the romance of the snow.