Adieu! Adieu! Adieu!

Dear Central Park:
Here’s one final blast of frost up your bum before I leave town. See you in nine months.
All my best,
Old Man Winter
Central-Park-winter4 Central-Park-winter6 Central-Park-winter12 Central-Park-winter61 Central-Park-winter91 Central-Park-winter111 central-park1 central-park21 Central+Park+winter1
And, finally…
…because it’s all you need, they say.
*     *     *
“You know those days when you’ve got the mean reds?”
“Same as the blues?”
“No,” she said slowly. “No, the blues are because you’re getting fat or maybe it’s been raining too long. You’re sad, that’s all. But the mean reds are horrible. You’re afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don’t know what it is. You’ve had that feeling?”
Truman Capote
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Yes, Holly, my sweet. I know what that is.