After the heavy rains of the past ___ days, it was exhilarating to wake up to blue skies yesterday morning. I've noticed that New York is a city (unlike Pittsburgh) where the weather often shifts dramatically overnight, probably due to its proximity to the ocean. Regrettably, the one time I all-but-guaranteed this to happen to my visiting brother and sister-in-law, it did not, which also goes to show how New York City can offer great promise, but just as often break your heart.
Outside, all the snow had vanished, leaving only scattered debris in its wake.
There were many dead umbrellas to be found.
A flock of pigeons circled wildly overhead, but the camera couldn't focus fast enough; in a way, though, I think I prefer the blurry image, which in a way is the more accurate depiction of so much that we view in life.
Or perhaps the appeal is recognizing the contrast between the crystalline and the opaque.
As Stephen and I walked to the house, I could not shake a sense of anxiety as I considered flying to Pittsburgh the next day; I wished that it was only three hours away by car so that it would make more sense to drive.
I spent a few minutes in the garden, which had endured the snow with little apparent damage.
Already I longed for winter to be over, even as I recognized that it's less than a week old.
We returned in time to see the sunset over the bridge, which I could not help but find reassuring, as if to witness this amber light was a guarantee of equally beautiful days ahead.
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