When I lived in New York City, we had snow regularly in the winter. It would snow, sometimes several inches, then the streets would be plowed, the snow would go from white to grey to black, and life would go on, maybe just a bit more slushy.
Snow in a city that is not used to snow like Seattle it’s all a different matter, especially when instead of one day of snow you have several days in a row. The city is left in a state between wonder and confusion. Everything looks beautiful and unfamiliar, as if we had been transported to a different city, and almost everything stops. Cars, garbage collection, schools, stores. When walking in the street people are friendlier and unhurried. After several days, the snow is still pure white, side streets are unplowed and enveloped in a deep silence.
The first days are pure magic. But after a while it gets harder. In the first few days, people tries to keep their driveways and the sidewalks in front of their houses and businesses clean, but by day 3 most have given up. Being stuck at home is no fun. It’s hard to exercise: dangerous and hard to run in the snow, gyms and yoga studios are closed and classes canceled. Going to the grocery store is harder when you have to walk in the snow instead of driving. We crave normality. We want back our routines.
