It’s snowing again in New York. Although the flakes are soft and gentle, snow can shut down an entire city.
Under a blanket of falling snow, the city is quiet. Cars, trucks, buses, and pedestrians still traverse the roads, but the atmosphere of stillness that snow brings wherever it falls persists.
Somehow the snow has absorbed sound, and we walk in a different world, lined on all sides by whiteness. Snow covers the ground, the grass, trees, cars, and buildings. And when you follow the snow-lined ledges of skyscrapers up to the sky, your eyes meet the dull whiteness of the clouds, which shroud the sky.
Then the snow stops. The clouds part. The world glistens in a white purer than color itself.