It was a dark and stormy night. I left my meeting in midtown and looked up into the sky sensing that snow was coming, but seeing only cold droplets shimmering against the empty office building lights. My family was about a mile away and I ran. You may have seen tippy-toes, jeans, and my black puma jacket, bald-looking head, glasses, soggy, soaking, sprints across avenues and down streets. A chill had descended on the City – a confusing cold. Is this what climate change looks like?
Later, when running with my wife and sons from the car to the apartment door I clutched my older guy and told him to keep his face down on my shoulder. In terms of weather, there is nothing worse than cold rain. If you linger it could kill you. How do you train a little one not to fear the elements but to respect them and to react accordingly?
photo: to bloom and not to bloom in Central Park
Truth is I am sure someone was wrestling with the cold. In some shadows they huddled against pavement, brick, and metal trying to shield themselves from the onslaught of wave after wave of the stinging rain. Eventually, and at some point unknown to most of us who go to sleep at night, warm in beds with loved ones, the rain turned, menacingly, to snow. It is this dusting that I see spread across those newly budding trees and freshly flowered petals. I think of the flowers that were blooming the past few days – the forsythia of Brooklyn. I also think of the homeless guys and gals and the man I saw yesterday on the subway platform heroin-nodding away. Did it really snow in New York in mid-April?
Right now the house is quiet. The sky is clear and the clouds move swiftly while the moon is just brilliant. My boys stir a bit, my wife tussles and turns. They all seem a bit uncomfortable. I am awake keeping vigil until the Morning Prayer...