Having grown up in Florida, snow is still a novelty to me, even after four years living up north. I'm always so surprised by it and I turn into a bit of a little kid with excitement and wonder. As I'm sure you can imagine, snow does not last long in NYC and turns all too quickly into an awful grey slush. So when we were set to have a snow day a few weeks ago, I was thrilled that I had nothing else to do that day and I bugged all of my friends incessantly to get someone to go with me up to Central Park for some snow day frolicking. My friend Emily, who is also from Florida and was excited for some snow day glee with me, said sure and we met up and headed to the park. On our way there we walked past a place selling sleds and with a knowing glance we ran inside to get one. The frolicking was getting more and more exciting. We entered the park right above the Met and started to search for a prime sledding hill, writing off a few as too packed with kids or too short to get much sledding distance. As we walked, hands frozen stiff, we kicked around in the piles of snow like the kids were are inside, getting overly exuberant upon finding an untouched patch that we could march through and toss around in the air. We then saw an ideal sledding hill right behind the Met and we trekked over through the knee deep white powder and up the hill where a few groups of kids were sledding down right in view of the Met cafe windows. We set our stuff down at the top of the hill and joined the children, sledding down a few times together, then on our own which gave us more speed, sometimes racing kids and sometimes almost knocking right into them or dodging them almost knocking into us. Sleds, I learned, are almost impossible to control. We spent about a half an hour until our jeans and socks were soaked with snow and we were too frozen to continue the revelry, then we headed home. It was a very successful snow day of sledding and frolicking in Central Park acting like five year olds for a few hours.
Thanks Em for the photos!