(no subject)
Last night, Steve said Get Your Asses Downstairs RIGHT NOW. We're having a G.D. snowball fight. Right. Now.
So we dressed. Chris, Julia, Dominique, Steve, and myself joined a group of young adults playing in the snow in the fountain of Washington Square Park at 2:30AM, and played like four year olds.
You throw a snowball at a complete stranger. They chase you. You fall in the snow and giggle until you can't breathe. The feeling of cold air rushing into your lungs when you run across the soccer field as a little kid is the same feeling of snow ball fights in Washington Square Park in the wee small hours of the morning... the snow is still falling. There's at least 16 inches of fluffy powdery snow on the ground. Dogs are trekking through the snow up to their ears, small children are lost. New Yorkers actually own saucers for makeshift sledding.
My chest still recuperating from that feeling in the park early this morning.
So we dressed. Chris, Julia, Dominique, Steve, and myself joined a group of young adults playing in the snow in the fountain of Washington Square Park at 2:30AM, and played like four year olds.
You throw a snowball at a complete stranger. They chase you. You fall in the snow and giggle until you can't breathe. The feeling of cold air rushing into your lungs when you run across the soccer field as a little kid is the same feeling of snow ball fights in Washington Square Park in the wee small hours of the morning... the snow is still falling. There's at least 16 inches of fluffy powdery snow on the ground. Dogs are trekking through the snow up to their ears, small children are lost. New Yorkers actually own saucers for makeshift sledding.
My chest still recuperating from that feeling in the park early this morning.