I love ugly days in New York. Cold, sleet, rain, anything that clears sidewalks of crowds for just a little while and lets the city breathe.
When fog appeared this week, Manhattan looked like it was exhaling, tired after an exhausting shift. Dressed in gray it was beautiful, less spectacle, more majesty. It eased back to being itself.
It’s when weather turns and most run for cover that New York rests. It invites you to stay awhile.
You walk together. Everything is mist and quiet. It’s just you and the city you love.
Break lights and neon shimmer on the street. Rain swims in potholes. Cobblestones seem to push aside asphalt as if the old city is trying to break free.
Around each corner, hints of the New York you thought was lost suddenly stand out. Gloom throws gentle light on their details.
Under disguise as a “bad day to be outside” New York drops its mask to reveal it hasn’t changed so much afterall – its classic lines remain. You find the city you miss.
As the rain continues, the city whispers. Couples lean into each other under umbrellas, taking in the rich silence. The novelty of finding New York so empty and quiet makes even strangers smile at each other in passing, knowing just how rare this is.
You realize that an ugly day in New York is a gift for the taking for anyone who longs for the way things used to be in this city.