🗽 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 ℕ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕤 🗽
🚦 In 2018, 65.55 inches of precipitation fell in Central Park, according to the National Weather Service. That’s more than 15 inches, or 31 percent, above normal.
🗿 Out of the 149 years of weather data collected at Central Park, the 10 wettest have all happened since 1972.
🚦En 2018, cayeron 65.55 pulgadas de precipitación en Central Park, según el Servicio Meteorológico Nacional. Eso es más de 15 pulgadas, o 31 por ciento, por encima de lo normal.
🗿 De los 149 años de datos meteorológicos recopilados en Central Park, los 10 más húmedos han sucedido desde 1972.
#empirestatebuilding #esbfan #esbvip #newyork #nyc #winter #weather #nycphotographer #blackandwhite #video (at Manhattan, Nueva York, EE.UU.)
Me freezing 🥰
❄️ I didn’t know that winter could be so beautiful… ❄️
A splash of color against the white snow. Sashes of yellow and green whip through the air in the cold wind. Shoulders bear coats of bright cobalt while swishing cloaks are red as blood. Paint is smeared on bare arms or chests, and fur of silver, black, or white line gowns and costumes of all kinds.
Masquerade among the Winter Court. Their revelries are bright against the white and grey of their snowy Winterlands. Drums beat out the heartbeat of the dancing, flutes and lyres sway like the water before the chill comes to freeze it. Voices of goblins, imps, elfs, and evergreen dryads all blend together. The giants clasp each other’s hands and hum, while even sprites dance in flurries above the dance floor.
A spectacle of color against the snow, like paint upon a canvas of white, coloring the world with laughter and music. No Faerie can lie, but the Winter Court is known for its honesty even among the Fae Folk. So you know as they smile and whirl in and out, clasping hand in hand and swinging round, that their joy is genuine. They drop their quiet solemnity and serene chill…and they dance to the rhythm of their heart and souls.
Upon each face lies a mask. An Owl, a Stag, a Fox. Predator or prey? Sparrow and Mouse, Bear and Wildcat, Hare and Badger, Wolf and Pine Marten. A thousand creatures, a thousand faces. All of them inhuman and filled with mischievous delight.
The Queen of Winter bears no mask. Upon her throne of diamond she remains, clad in furs of silver and white, skin pale and eyes that pierce. She is still, watching her subjects as they indulge in their delights. Though she remains cold, aloof, and still as the ice…the tiniest corner of her mouth has turned upwards in the very ghost of a smile.
“it is the MIDDLE of the NIGHT” i say, at 11 pm during the winter, because it has been night for 6 hours now
Mystic Seaport in the winter
1999 Holiday Beanie Baby