After the once-every-more-or-less-two-weeks shop at Wholefoods on Columbus Circle (which allows me to stock up on organic chicken, a grass-fed steak, maybe, and, this time, two beautiful branzinos), I veered off into Central Park in search of the great outdoors.
I walked along the road for a bit, but then saw the Sheep Meadow, with no one on it. Not even sheep.
And in I went. At first I managed to stay on top of the snow, which was frozen, but soon enough I broke through with an abrupt drop in altitude. Undeterred, I decided to aim for the middle of the white field.
I wasn't prepared for the crunch and plunge with every step, which shows how little I know about snow. I've never really had this much to practise on. New York's lucky if it gets a decent snowfall a season. We've had several, and the cold after our last one had kept untrafficked snow clean and cold, and has changed its fluffy nature.
No wonder those Everest climbers have such trouble. It's hard work!
Phew. In the end I followed a set of tracks across, wobbling every now and then as the ice caught my feet. Fortunately I did not have to worry about my purchases thawing.
I reached the far side and the beautiful elm alley.
Where I found an impossibly well dressed dog.
The shoes! I'm not against snow shoes for dogs - the salt and chemicals on city sidewalks are horrible, and I think it's awful that most dogs have to walk in the noxious slush (this from a cat person) but these are...a little disturbing.
The pond is iced over, completely.
The Ramble is on the other side of the bridge (site of spring walk).
I crossed the bridge, then headed back to the subway, shoulders now aching from the heavy bags, and caught the B from 81st to 125th Street, where I surfaced and walked west, passing icicles and stray cats, before turning up our front stairs and letting myself into the apartment, greeted my well fed black cat, and unpacked what I had found.