I truly love when something happens that has every single person in New York experiencing the same thing at the same time. Which is exactly what happened this past Wednesday, when we all received emergency updates on our phones, warning of a “Snow Squall” that would be sweeping over the city, from the West, within 30 minutes. This message was received as we were all looking out at clear blue skies and the city at peace, just before sunset. What is this squall? What is about to happen? What should we do?

I was out shopping for gifts and was positively charged by the excitement of it all. One shop owner told me, “They always make fun of me. I said just this morning, ‘I smell snow today…’ and they all laughed. And now the squall is coming…” she remarked proudly. 

Another told me, “I mean, they must be wrong. It’s beautiful outside. Nothing is going to happen,” as she rung in a pair of novelty socks and asked if I needed a gift receipt. To which, I wondered, is anyone enough of an asshole to return novelty socks? They are both functional and entertaining. I declined.

As I left the shop, I saw it coming. To my right, clear, sunsetting skies. To my left, the disappearing Manhattan skyline and a very unsettling deep, dark grey approaching quickly. The squall. I ducked into a vintage store and browsed through what could have been old or new jewelry as it hit. 

“Whoa, where did that come from?” The shop owner said aloud. “I’d wait it out if I were you…” 

“I want to go out in it,” I told her, as I opened the door and got swept up into the mayhem. 

And what impacted me most wasn’t the blinding snow or piercing wind… it was the feeling that all 8.6 million New Yorkers were feeling and thinking the same thing at the same time. I was swept up in the energy of what it is to live among so many unique people, with their own ideas and beliefs and dreams, and then to feel the impact of us all sharing the same, albeit panicked, mindset, for just a few minutes. 

I was walking back home after it had all settled in and I saw a woman nearly fall on a sneaky patch of sidewalk ice. An older man was approaching me. “Watch out, it’s super slippery right there.” “Right here?” he pointed, before sprinkling some salty mixture from a kid’s beach pail onto the patch. 

He seemed to be the post-squall Sheriff.

There are so many beautiful connections that happen daily in this city. We’re all in it together, even though at times we feel completely isolated. The sun rises and sets upon us each day. And sometimes, we get completely and wholly swept up in it all, together.

See you, or feel you at least, out there, Brooklyn.