It was hard to resist capturing Central Park during the last snow storm of the season. That morning I dragged myself from under my cosy covers, peeped out the window and dressed in my warmest ensemble of clothes. Armed with a camera and a sense of purpose, I rode the subway uptown to 72nd Street.
The chill in the air made it impossible to imagine that it was, in fact, the first day of Spring. The snow had already started to thaw that prior week and New Yorkers had assumed that the coldest Winter in decades was finally over.
On this special Spring day, that magical white powder transformed Central Park into Narnia. The snow clung to bare branches and glistened like jewels. It was one of the most beautiful experiences in my life; wandering through the desolate winter wonderland as the mist spread around me and the whiteness created a deafening silence.