Saturday, November 22, 2008
The first snowfall is trying to arrive. The temperature has been waiting for it all week. Too cold to walk to work anymore, and the Rose Man wasn't on his corner this Friday. The wind whips off the Hudson and swirls around Fort Tryon Park where I went running this morning. My dog and I maneuvered up and down ice-covered paths, concentrating hard, trying not to slip. We made it to the river, where my dog looked up at me with eyes made tearful by the wind. Why are you doing this to me, his eyes questioned. I had the same question for myself. Three hours later I am still trying to coax the chill out of my bones.