Blizzard Nemo, which had stranded me in New York during Fashion Week for an extra two days, had blown itself out by Saturday night, and the streets were starting to look clear by Monday, my last day in Manhattan.
I had ridden the 6 train to the Upper East Side to run some errands. Once done, I was going to pick up a cab on Fifth Avenue to take me the twenty or so blocks down to the Apple Store. But, as I wandered across Fifth, I glanced into Central Park.
It was like an eery, empty other world, with a thick mist hanging over the still deep snow. Of course I immediately forgot all plans for hailing a cab, and walked straight into the Park.
Along with throngs of excited snow-drunk New Yorkers, I had tramped through a foot of snow in the Park by Columbus Circle on Saturday morning under bright blue skies, but this afternoon I had the Park almost to myself.
I could just about make out the buildings of Fifth Avenue through the mist swirling over the iced boating pond.
I was wearing my Hunter snow boots with their ice grip soles, so knew I could forge ahead and remain upright…otherwise I would have been flat on my back like several other tourists I saw attempting to walk through the Park.
As I walked south towards the Plaza, I cut through the Central Park Zoo.
And for the very first time in all my years in New York, I finally saw a sea lion undulating his way along the rocks.
As I reached Central Park South, the fog started to lift.
A magical, haunting lost half hour.