Stacy Horn

I haven’t been getting shots I just love. I’m not good with snow. Or night. I’ve decided. This is Greenwhich Avenue, near 7th Avenue and 11th Street.

Marc Jacobs is open!

I wanted to take pictures of every poor dog having to walk and go to the bathroom in the snow. Some loved it, most looked miserable.

From the roof. This almost doesn’t look real.

I am so so so so behind in what I should have done for the month in writing but I want to go out there and explore! This is looking down the fire escape.

It’s not that cold out, but my hands were dying out there. I don’t like to wear gloves, and usually I can get away with it, but my hands were aching! I had to keep sticking them in my pockets. I didn’t get the shot, alas, but this is from the roof.

Looking up 11th Street towards Hudson.

People hailing cabs! It was so weird to hear someone call “taxi,” because I hadn’t seen any cars until that point.

And this is my block. It looks like it’s not snowing, but it must have been something about the exposure because check it out …

I took this at the same time. Weird, right?

Oh wait, Cara, it probably hit you already? I can’t wait. I just need to run out for a few supplies and I’m set.

These trees were just laying on the street yesterday where for the past few weeks there’s been a Christmas tree stand. I’m guessing it wasn’t worth hauling them back to wherever they came from and the seller left them on the street for whoever wanted to take them. Those trees on the right are pretty huge.

I just read Dick Cavett’s Christmas commentary, and it made me think of one of my favorite Christmas stories, Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory.” It’s a beautiful, but ultimately terribly sad story. It’s so evocative of love and something else I can’t quite name, something important, something that we lose, that I endure the price of sadness and usually read it every year. I really recommend it if you’ve never read it.

Then I remembered that I had decided that this year I had to come up with new Christmas traditions, that Christmas was not the same and I needed to change with it. It hasn’t been the same for a long time, but I refuse to let go.

I couldn’t think of anything though. Go away every Christmas? Do some charitable act? Maybe I will think of something next year.

Someone decorated the poles holding up this scaffolding. Good job, someone.