Solid Water

Of all the weather I’ve ever lived with, New York City weather was the least predictable. Because there weather is not the deal-breaker it is in other cities or parts of the country, a truly “beautiful” day—clear, dry, sunny, even a little warm—is a surprise and a gift, the kind of day that brings the masses out to lunch on the Bryant Park lawn or to Central Park to sunbathe. When I moved to NYC in 1992, the weather patterns still regularly brought spectacular electrical storms, as well as snow by the foot. I used to live on the sixth floor of an apartment that looked out over the Hudson, and when a good thunder-and-lightning storm approached from the west, I would open the window to watch the periodic flashes make their steady progress across New Jersey, sometimes counting “One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand.” When the rain finally came down in a gust, I’d close the windows and watch the storm pass.
One evening in winter (based on where I was living, in Morningside Heights, this would have been the winter of ’93 or ’94), I came off the subway and noticed that the trees along Tiemann Place looked like they’d been dipped in liquid glass. They looked fragile, beautiful, magical. They caught and reflected light like jewels. I looked around and saw that every tree and even the fire escapes had the same clear coating of ice. During the day the snow must have started to melt, then the temperature probably dropped so fast that it froze quickly enough to remain perfectly clear. I’d never seen anything like it. I even went upstairs and looked up the word “rime,” as in “rimed with ice.”
The weather pattern here for the past few week has been the same: grey, cold, but not frigid. There’s a heavy dusting of snow on the ground. Lake effect snow comes at some point each day, but for now we’re not experiencing anything like the cold of last week. Even long-time residents were saying it was too cold. But there wasn’t much snow yet, so it wasn’t cold and snow. I asked my sister- in-law this morning if the sun ever comes out. She laughed, and said that it does, but that when it does it’s usually clear and cold. I’ve figured out where to keep my scarf, hat and gloves at all times, and I’ve learned out to use the four-wheel-overdrive on the battered used truck I often drive. I’m ready. Bring it on.