Hudson River Ice

This winter started off with a shock of unseasonably cold weather for which I was most definitely not prepared. I finally reconciled with the arctic temps just in time for it to warm up (and then get cold again—it's hard to keep up) and I'm glad that winter and I are back on good terms because I have a special kind of love for winter in New York.

Five years ago (!) on January 11th, 2013, I very quickly uprooted my life in Ohio and moved to New York for what I started calling a "trial period" of two months. I had wanted to live in New York for most of my life, but I still was wary of making the commitment. A (somewhat surprise) break-up triggered the quick getaway and I had a job that allowed me to work remotely, easing the transition. Even though I was pretty sure about the outcome, I wanted my move to New York to be backed up by evidence and not just romance.

I spent those two months exploring the city—on my lunch break, after work and on the weekends—and although I had been here many times before, I discovered that living in New York 24/7 was infinitely different than being here on vacation. I had friends here, but I was alone more often than not, and I learned more about myself in those two months than I had in the several years prior.

I had initially thought that the winter was the worst possible time for my trial run, thinking that the city would be miserably cold and bleak. Ohio winters are no joke, but after a life of heated seats and limited time spent outside, I dreaded having to walk outdoors so much in the winter. I quickly realized, however, that the right clothes and shoes can make all of the difference, and I came to cherish the way the city empties out after the holidays, the way the bare trees expose previously obscured views and of course, the magical way everything looks coated in a fresh layer of snow (fresh being the operative word).

I was worried at the beginning of this season that I had finally lived in New York long enough to become immune to its charms. But then I layered up and took a walk along the icy Hudson—mesmerized by the bobbing ice floes—and remembered why I fell in love with this city in the first place.

In 1780, during the American Revolution, the New York harbor completely froze over, and in the 1800s, the East River froze over several times—solid enough that it was possible to walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn. A combination of high salinity levels and frequent boat traffic usually keeps the Hudson from freezing over completely, although it's technically still possible.

When the two months were up and I went back to Ohio, I knew it wouldn't be long until I returned to New York again for good, and five months later I moved for real. It was unbearably hot in those first weeks, and the winters here can feel relentlessly grey and cold, a season of death and deep freeze. But after several years spent feeling as if I was merely existing in a self-imposed dormancy, it was in the dead of winter that I truly started to come alive again.

Cross-Country Skiing

The weather this winter has been all over the place, and while I am happy that we've had two respectable snowfalls, I do wish we'd had more. Overall it's been pretty warm (but climate change is just fake news, huh?), and two weekends ago temps were in the 50s. It's been way snowier upstate than in the city, and they had a nice base of snow but we knew we had to act fast, so we rented a ZipCar for the day and headed to Lake Minnewaska.

This was only my second time cross-country skiing, but it went much better than my first. I only fell once this time—in a scene akin to Bambi on ice—and I'm in much better physical shape than I was when we went two years ago. In fact, not only did I not feel basically paralyzed the next morning, but I hardly felt as we'd done anything strenuous at all, which is a definite triumph for me.

Lake Minnewaska is about two hours outside of the city, near the town of New Paltz. We rented skiis from a shop in town and I was amazed at how cheap they were—less than $20 for skiis, poles and boots. We did about a seven-mile loop, passing the frozen Rainbow Falls, snow-covered Lake Awosting and stopped for the incredible views around almost every turn. I kept remarking how irresponsible it is to allow people like me strap slippery skiis onto their uncoordinated feet on top of a mountain, but once the terror subsided it turned out to be a perfect day.

Prospect Park: Snow

There aren't many things in life I love more than snow, and the city during or after a snowstorm is just about perfect. We had our first major snowfall of 2017 (and of this winter season) this weekend and I had to get out and explore. I tried to go to Green-Wood Cemetery, but—in what has become sort of an unfortunate tradition involving me, snow and cemeteries—it was closed. I did the next best thing and walked home through Prospect Park, which is lovely anytime of year but is a total dream land in the snow.

The snow was coming down pretty heavily during my entire walk so the park was deserted—just another gift that the winter gods bestow on the city at this time of year. The park is fun when it's teeming with life—sledding in the winter, picnics in the summer—but there's nothing quite like watching the snow fall quietly while you're standing in the middle of Brooklyn, without another person in sight.

After about two hours of frolicking like a kid during their first-ever snowfall, I got impossibly cold and tired of the snow blowing into my face. I exited the park and took a bus about three blocks home—wet and cold but already looking forward to my next snowy city adventure.

The 2016 Blizzard

It's currently in the 70s here in New York, which is wonderful no matter what time of year it occurs, but it's definitely not normal for March. It's no secret that I adore snow, and we've had a pitiful amount of it this "winter." In fact, this was one of the least snowiest winters we've had in a while, and the vast majority of the accumulation that we did manage to get came all in one day.

On January 23rd, New York City recorded 26.8 inches of snow in Central Park. We stayed inside for more than 24 hours during the actual snowfall, but the next day we ventured out to see how Brooklyn had fared. My favorite part of the entire blizzard was seeing the huge, car-shaped mounds of snow that lined the streets. I don't normally envy people that have cars in the city, but I was especially glad to be able to enjoy the snowy streets without worrying about digging out.

We walked to Prospect Park past the back entrance of Green-Wood Cemetery, which was unfortunately closed due to the snow. They actually opened their main gates later in the day but I wasn't able to make it in. I adore snow almost as much as I love cemeteries, so when the two combine I'm endlessly delighted.

Prospect Park was a true winter wonderland, although I did get overwhelmed at times by the amount of screaming children sledding on every possible snowy surface. I love the city even more when it snows because of how quiet everything usually becomes. The traffic slows to a crawl, there are less people out and everything just seems more magical and calm. I felt a bit robbed of this phenomenon since by the time we ventured out it was sunny and it seemed as if 90% of Brooklyn had the same idea as us.

Since we had gotten a slow start, there were already some really excellent snow creations scattered throughout the park, including a Madonna-and-Child sculpture that was hard to capture accurately and the most wonderful snow octopus I've ever seen (it's also the only snow octopus I've ever seen).

We tried to add our own creation, but couldn't get the snow to cooperate so I settled on flopping down into the snow and making a snow angel. Of course because I'm thirty years old now, I felt like I had whiplash for the next week—maybe I should be thankful that my chances to injure myself participating in snowy activities have been so limited this year.

Williamsburg

Recently, I met Jim for breakfast in the East Village one morning and we decided to go on a mini-adventure. We chose Williamsburg because it was just a few stops from where we were on the L train. The last time we were both there was on a sweltering day in the summer to see the Kara Walker exhibit at the Domino Sugar Factory. The part of the factory that housed the exhibit has since been demolished, and it started snowing quite aggressively a short time after we arrived, which cut our visit short.

When everyone is crammed into coffee shops and brunch spots, walking around looking into the windows very much feels like you've stumbled upon a sort of "hipster zoo." I'm sure Jim and I are really no different, but I never feel at ease in Williamsburg. Which is convenient, because I certainly can't afford to live there, but I do like to visit on occasion.

The cute boutiques and fancy coffee shops are great, but the real charm of Williamsburg is still there if you look hard enough—in its rusty waterfront, brick buildings with wonderful ghost signs and clever graffiti. Once you leave the main Bedford drag, things get a lot more industrial and interesting. Jim and I walked along the East River waterfront for as long as we could stand the snow that somewhat impossibly was blowing in our faces, no matter which direction we were going.

We stumbled on an old diner that I only vaguely knew existed—now Cafe de la Esquina, a Mexican restaurant that we added to the list—and I found a really excellent manhole cover, which always makes me happy. We also walked past a lot that had a random headstone sitting by itself, which was kind of odd but I was into it.

Winter Roundup

I had thought that we had seen that last major snowfall a few weeks ago, but while I was cruising my way back to the States, New York got its first snowfall of the spring. I'm kind of sad I missed it, but I was able to take a walk on Saturday and enjoy some of it, although most of the snow had melted off the trees by the afternoon.

I hesitate to declare again that I think we've seen our last snow of the season, but in the meantime, I was sorting through some of my photos and found some of past snowfalls that I hadn't shared.

At the beginning of February I walked to work through the North Woods in Central Park on a very icy morning. It had snowed, then rained, then everything froze which made for a treacherous, but very beautiful commute. I really love the wildness of the North Woods, although by "wild" I mean as wild as you can get in the middle of Manhattan.

When I'm not walking through the North Woods, I walk along the reservoir. I've walked it a few times this winter and it's been frozen and snow-covered, which makes it look like a long, uninterrupted stretch of land. My friend Jim said it reminded him of the salt flats in Utah and it's really quite beautiful. The running track has been snow-covered and frozen as well, which means that I was the only person crazy enough to be walking along it on most mornings.

I'll never get over how wonderful this city can be in the winter when you feel as if you have the entire city to yourself. According to the calendar it's already spring and I'm sure before we know it, it will feel as hot as a dog's mouth in the city and we'll all forget what snow even felt like.

Trinity Cemetery and Mausoleum: Winter

After being once again denied access to Woodlawn Cemetery the weekend because of "hazardous conditions,"—aka the beautiful, melting and not-at-all-hazardous snow—I headed to the next closest cemetery that I knew of to get my snowy tombstone fix.

 I had been to Trinity Cemetery, Manhattan's only active cemetery, in March of last year for the first time and I hadn't been back since. Thankfully the gates were open, there was no obnoxious guard to stop me from walking in and more than enough snow to make me happy again. Some of the pathways were cleared and others were not, but I came prepared with boots and happily forged my own way through nearly a feet of snow.

The snow was piled against the mausoleums and stuck in the recesses of letters in the most interesting ways. Trinity is a relatively small cemetery, especially when compared to Green-Wood or Woodlawn, but it has some really wonderful mausoleums. I was particularly loving how the snow was drifted and pushed against the doors, making them look like little mountain cottages.

You never know, but I think we've probably seen the last of this winter's snow. I suppose I will never get to see Woodlawn in the winter, which is definitely a disappointment, but there are still plenty of other wonderful places that I haven't explored to keep me busy. While I still think that fall is the very best time for a cemetery walk, I have to say that winter is a close second—that is, as long as they let me in.

Brooklyn Heights

Since the very first time I set foot on the dreamy Promenade, Brooklyn Heights has been my happy place. When I used to come visit New York I would always try to fit in a visit to the neighborhood, no matter how packed my schedule. When I lived here for my two-month trial run (which ended two years ago today—!) I would trek all the way out to BK just to read my Sunday newspaper.

I was in desperate need of a spirit-lifting solo adventure recently and before walking the Manhattan Bridge or visiting Kolonihavehus, I started my day in Brooklyn Heights. I will never not get a thrill from just walking the Promenade and taking in the breathtaking views of lower Manhattan, the Brooklyn Bridge, and even—if you look hard enough—the Statue of Liberty.

Everything was still covered in snow when I went, which of course makes everything even more dreamy to me. The quiet streets are completely magical, lined with brownstones and cute colonial-style row houses, with names like Pineapple, Cranberry and Pierrepont. Truman Capote used to live in Brooklyn Heights, as did Walt Whitman and Thomas Wolfe—and I would add myself to that list in a heartbeat if I could.

Manhattan Bridge

I've walked the Manhattan Bridge a few times now, and I've really grown fond of its scrappiness—especially when compared with its classier and more popular neighbor, the Brooklyn Bridge. I love it much more now that I'm prepared for the constant train rattle and now that I know exactly how to find the pedestrian entrances and exits.

My most recent bridge walk was from Brooklyn to Manhattan, after a day spent exploring Brooklyn Heights and Dumbo. The sun was setting and it was pretty empty, which made for a really excellent walk. I will always appreciate that cyclists and pedestrians have their own sides of the bridge, which makes the walk much more leisurely.

There is always new graffiti to see on the Chinatown rooftops and on the bridge itself and the colors are really extraordinary. And no matter how many times I see it, the view of lower Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge will never not be spectacular to me—even if I have no idea how the Verizon monstrosity has the nerve to think it belongs in the same skyline as the dreamy Woolworth building.

Kolonihavehus, 2010

I have been seeing photos of Tom Fruin's Kolonihavehus, 2010, an installation art piece in Brooklyn Bridge park for a while and I've been meaning to see it in person. I finally got to the park recently, and it really exceeded my expectations. At first it might seem to have no real purpose, and I guess it doesn't really, but it is a delightful sight.

The garden house is made from nearly 1,000 scraps of reclaimed Plexiglass and the colors are extraordinary. I was there in the late afternoon and the sun was hitting the panels in the most wonderful ways and casting incredible rainbow shadows onto the snowy ground. 

With the Brooklyn Bridge and the Lower Manhattan skyline on the one side, and the Manhattan Bridge on the other, there is no bad viewpoint in the park. As much as I'm kind of over this arctic tundra the city has become, I am glad I got to see this piece while there is still snow on the ground—and its bright, happy colors have me dreaming even more of the impending spring.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 4

I have thought about the incredible Ellis Island hospital tour many, many times since we took it in January. I don't imagine any tour topping it for a very long time—it was just so, so good. I've already shared my photos from inside of the abandoned hospital complex, the lonely chairs that I fell in love with and the beautiful JR art installation, but I never shared my photos from the hospital grounds.

The south side of the island isn't very large but it packs a lot into a relatively limited space. The main building, which houses the immigration museum, was restored in the 90s but the south side buildings remain in various states of decay and have never been open to visitors until now (and only as part of the hard hat tour that we took). It's kind of awesome to be able to see the unrestored buildings in the same view as the restored main hall—it's like a real-life before-and-after show.

The broken and boarded up windows, piles of forgotten construction materials, ivy-covered brick and even the lonely bird house all added to the eerie feeling of the complex. As much as I loved the buildings themselves, it's really the views from the grounds—of the Statue of Liberty, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and Lower Manhattan—that make the trip to Ellis Island a must-do.

I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about this tour for a very long time (like, probably never) and I keep wondering if I should just pull the trigger and book another ticket. As cold as our tour was, I loved that we got to see it in the snow and bright winter light but I'm already dreaming of getting the chance to explore these buildings in the spring.

Hudson River Ice

On Saturday, after the diner breakfast, after the High Line and after I explored a bit of the West Side Highway, I walked back north along the Hudson River. I work on the east side of Manhattan, but I've always lived on the west side and north or south, the west side is the best side as far as I'm concerned.

The walk along the Hudson is one of my favorites, especially at this time of year. Last year it was cold enough for the Hudson to freeze (partially) and I went one day on my lunch break to check out the ice floes. This year it's been even colder for even longer and the ice floes are bigger and better than they were last year.

Although I'm quite over this bitter cold, I do love the arctic-looking landscape, and I could watch the ice bob up and down in the river for hours. It started to snow halfway through my walk and coated everything in a fresh layer of bright white—a welcome improvement to the gritty, trash-littered, black snow drifts that have been around for weeks. The East River Ferry has been experiencing problems due the ice recently—which must be frustrating—but if winter is going to stick around for a while longer, at least it's pretty to look at.

West Side Highway

On Saturday, after meeting friends at a diner in Chelsea and walking a portion of the High Line, I decided to check out an abandoned stand-alone diner that I had read about. I walked about a mile down the West Side Highway, which I don't do very often but I really love the desolate and gritty feeling of the far west side.

Of course every neighborhood in New York has become impossibly cool and expensive and the west side is no exception (probably  especially the west side), but the West Side Highway still feels a bit abandoned, especially on a cold, winter weekend. I only passed a few people—mostly walking dogs—and I didn't cover much ground, but saw so many wonderful things. There are some really great old hotels, abandoned and for-sale buildings, auto-body shops and so much amazing signage and vintage typography that I couldn't have been happier.

I only went as far south as the abandoned diner and then turned around. It was hard to take photos through the tiny openings in the chain link fence, but the inside of the diner is falling apart, filled with debris and is still totally amazing. All of the windows are out of the old dining car and it's in really bad shape, but you can still imagine how it must have looked in its glory days. I hope someone resurrects the diner instead of just tearing it down—what a dream it would be to be able to bring it back to life—but its pretty incredible in its current state of decay.

High Line: Winter

My biggest complaint about the High Line is how unbearably crowded it can get. Every time I've gone it has been uncomfortably packed with slow-moving people—it's an old elevated rail line, so it's not very roomy to begin with and there are parts where it narrows to almost a single-file line.

This weekend, however, I decided to check it out figuring it would be bearable in the cold and snow, and to my delight it was as sparse as I'd ever seen it. There were still people on it, of course, but at times it felt as if I had the park to myself, which is something I never thought I'd experience.

I haven't explored the High Line or the Chelsea/Meatpacking district very much, but I always find something interesting when I do. The mix of old and new buildings is especially fascinating to me, and as much as I prefer the old to the new, the juxtaposition of both is sometimes really nice.

You can even find remnants of why the area is called the Meatpacking District if you look hard enough—and any place that offers a good view of the Empire State Building is worth a visit, even if you have to share the view.

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part Two

I took so many photos of Green-Wood in the snow, that I decided to break them up into two posts. As I was looking through them, I noticed that I was particularly interested in the statues, so here are my favorites from that snowy walk:

I'm still sad that our trip to Woodlawn was foiled by the snow and a grumpy security guard because I can't stop thinking about how beautiful it all looked covered in snow. I would love to go back to Green-Wood right after a snowstorm and catch some of these statues actually covered a bit more.

Angels are always my favorite cemetery statues but one gets bonus points if it's missing arms, or—my very favorite—its head. I love the way they weather and crumble, how they get covered in moss or lichen, and how desperately mournful they can look. It's one thing to read a kind inscription or see a name, but its another thing entirely to see a weeping angel, bent over a headstone in eternal despair.

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part One

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part One

One of the first things I thought of when I heard that we had a snow day last week was "I should go to Green-Wood Cemetery," (that's totally normal, right?). The cemetery was closed all day, unfortunately, although I did get to walk by it (after my walk through Prospect Park) and peek through the fence. It looked incredible in the snow, and Sunday I finally made my way inside.

The roads were plowed, and some of the snow had started to melt but it was just as beautiful as I had imagined. As much as I love cemeteries and snow, I had only ever been to Calvary Cemetery in the winter, and on a warm day when most of the snow had already melted. I knew I wanted to make a snowy cemetery visit a priority this winter, and this was the first significant snowfall we've had this year. 

Sunday was a beautiful day and luckily not bitterly cold. I walked around for about two hours and didn't even have to keep my gloves on. Some of the snow drifts were pretty deep, but it was so peaceful and I barely saw anyone else on my walk. I hadn't been to Green-Wood since the open house tour this past fall, and it was great seeing some of my favorite mausoleums and statues against the beautiful snow. 

No matter how many times I go to Green-Wood, I always see something new and interesting. This time, the "transplanted children" headstone wins for strangest stone I saw, and I know I've said it before but it just doesn't get any better than a pyramid-shaped, Egyptian-themed mausoleum. Also, since the trees have lost their leaves, the view of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty from Battle Hill is currently perfect—I can't think of a better place in the world to spend all of eternity.

Snow Day

Last week New York was supposed to get a "blizzard of historical proportions", but we actually ended up with about 7 inches of snow. Despite the blizzard being a complete bust, we still got the day off work and having an adult snow day was everything I dreamed it could be.

The subway was up and running by about 10 am, and so was I—I headed to Brooklyn to check out the winter delights in Prospect Park (with a stop to get second breakfast at a bagel shop near the park). I don't know Prospect Park as well as Central Park, but I always love the time I spend there. It's a bit more wild and less crowded than Central Park, although on Tuesday it was full of fellow snow-dayers, making the most of the meager snowfall, sledding, snowboarding and cross-country skiing.

We walked around the park for a while, hitting all of the highlights—the lake, the lookout points, the beautiful bridges—and I even got to check up on the swans, which (despite my fear of birds) are my favorite part of Prospect Park.

We haven't gotten nearly as much snow this year as we had last year and I'm hoping for at least a few more good storms before winter is over. I'm not greedy enough to expect another snow day—I've been told that they're very rare in the city—but that won't keep me from hoping for more perfect winter days like this one.

Snowy Commute

Last Friday I woke up to an unexpected snowfall and decided to walk to work through Central Park. I used to walk to and from work more frequently before I moved farther north and I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it. I actually cheated a bit and took the subway to West 96th Street and Central Park West and then walked my old route along the reservoir to East 91st Street and Fifth Avenue.

We didn't get a ton of snow, and it had almost stopped falling by the time I was on my way but the park was beautiful. I love the city and especially Central Park in any weather, but if I absolutely had to pick a favorite, snow would win. There were even less people than out than usual, mostly people walking their adorable coat-wearing dogs. If you ever needed evidence that snow is magic to me, I felt compelled to wish everyone I passed a "good morning," which is the total opposite of my usual strategy of complete and total avoidance of all unnecessary human interaction.

I finally got a comfortable pair of snow boots and a proper winter jacket with an absurd Arctic-explorer faux-fur hood, so I could have stayed out all day. Unfortunately I had to get to work eventually (is anyone else consistently annoyed by the need to have a job and be a responsible adult?) but hopefully this was just a preview of the winter delights still to come.