I was up early on Saturday morning and after a hot strong mug of coffee to jump-start my brain I bundled up and walked out into the frigid morning light of a cold winter’s day. This was a post snow storm walk around Astoria photographing ice and snow as it formed and lay on the urban landscape. The sun had only fully risen an hour before and sat low on the horizon trying to wake up but, its rays were bright and welcoming giving off a bit of warmth on this 11 degree day.
I was particular in looking for and photographing ice and as I walked up Ditmars Boulevard my eyes scanned the scene searching, tracking until a sharp shard of frozen water was found hanging from window ledges, roof tops and car fenders; I photographed them all. I found late autumn flowers and berries frozen and shriveled and wrapped in a mantle of white snow. Bits of Christmas and some summer memories were hidden beneath a thick blanket of cold but glistened in the sun’s shine.
I came upon a laundromat whose giant steam vent was pouring forth white clouds of hot vapor into the brisk blue sky. It seemed everywhere I looked I saw a frosty abstract sculpture. Even the dirty snow plastered against the side of a jeep looked beautiful in its shape and texture. A tiny wave of snow about to crest, icy skeletal fingers beneath a car, a dried out vine crawling up, up to the sky, the rough edges of discarded debris smoothed out under a creamy white cover, all were now pieces of art on display.
Into the shadow beneath the arch of the New York Connecting Railroad I walked. Cut into the sides of the walls are vertical slits there to release trapped water from the tracks above. The water had been gushing forth when it was seized by the intense cold and frozen in mid splash. And as the water kept coming each new wave froze on top of the previous creating smooth glass like abstract pieces of white and blue polar art.
Old Man Winter stayed with me all morning then kissed the tip of my nose and pinched my cheeks red and sent me on my way back home.