Snow. The first time in the season is always a little magical. It’s rarely too much, not often disruptive, and it’s as pretty as can be. That first snowfall is romantic, idyllic. The city sort of goes quiet under a blanket of hush.
Many people don’t like winter, with its cold and darkness. But winter has always been my favorite time of year. It’s the perfect time of year. The stifling mess that is summer is but a memory. The fall, with it’s picture perfect days, is just behind us. Ahead is the birth of a new season. But, right now, for the next few months, it is winter’s turn.
It’s a time for reflection, of course. It is also a time to rest, to see family and friends. To eat in gluttonous abandonment, to laze around the house and enjoy yourself. Like no other season, this is the season of parties and fun.
Erin M‘s picture, above, captures everything about this season that I love. The streets, wet with snow. The snow, still lightly falling. The street lights, reflecting off the sidewalks. The lovers, hand in hand, braced against the cold. Are they going home from a party? Just heading out for the evening? What’s this night have in store for them?
You’d never imagine this is F Street NW, downtown (between 13th and 14th). I’ve walked this strip of sidewalk a thousand times, and I’ve never seen it look this good. When you see an image of something familiar and it strikes you that you’ve never seen it in that light before, you know the photographer has excelled. And when that photographer has managed to bring warmth to your normally Grinch-like, curmudgeonly writer, then it’s only right that we salute her.