It is pretty hard to fathom that just a week ago the snow was falling so hard that I could barely see across the street in New York. Now, I am on my parents patio in Miami, editing the snow filled scenes from NYC.
Coney island is a place I have only heard my family talk about. My mother remembers going there in the heat of summer and riding the attractions and having out on the sun baked board walk. I have always wanted to hop on the D train and take in a bit of that board walk history.
It was a day after a blizzard that I finally made my way out to the childhood wonderland of Coney Island. I took the D train to the West 8th Street Aquarium. I was just about the only one who got off the train. I made my way down the soggy steps out onto the street.
The skies were a candy blue as layers upon layers of snow stacked up on the beach. I spotted the rides and made a mad dash for them. Well, not exactly a mad dash. It was as much as a mad dash that this Miamian could manage in brand new snow boots.
This is where both my parents spent their summers. This is where they munched on candy apples and strolled along the boardwalk. Now, 60 years later here I am wrapped from head to toe to protect me from the Great White North winds blowing in over the Atlantic.
The whole area was closed and shuttered till spring. The only to places along the board awl that were open was Nathan’s and Applebees. Nathan’s looked like a collection of outtakes from a Fellini casting call.
All the snow and the utter lack of other people shifted the whole experience to the surreal. A place of fun in the sun, was now knee deep in snow.
I continued to crunch along the boardwalk passing someone out for a stroll with their pooch. I wanted to walk down to the waters edge. The snow collapse under my boots leaving a trail of size 14 prints in the snow.
My nose felt nothing as by now it had numbed in the icy wind. I could though the memories of my parents experience a side of Coney Island they never did. The brightly colored rides and walls stood still for me as I was alone with my thoughts and camera.
It was truly absurd to go down to Coney Island in the dead of winter but, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even though my visit probably had come 60 years after my parents we were able to connect though place if not time.
All the sights and smells may have been different but I could swear I could still smell the sticky sweetness of the cotton candy as I crunched my way though the snow.