Very picturesque…until the inevitable slush and ice and resulting misfortune set in. NYC received about 12-inches of snow and, even as I write, the storm is tapering off and moving on.
In our warm and secluded brownstone across from Prospect Park, my wife and I brewed many arousing flagons of steaming coffee, cleverly laced with brandy, and watched while taking shelter from the storm; a blend of Bach and Oscar Peterson playing through the still atmosphere. Indeed, it’s always nice to enjoy the awesome whims of Nature from a safe distance, theorizing and rhapsodizing on its caprices, and not exposed to its less charming realities. Then again, I’ll have to go out eventually and slip and slide away with the best of them.