The train ride in winter has a hypnotic quality–all the black tree trunks and branches against the white snow. The mountains stand out more; I tend to forget that Pennsylvania is so mountainous.The train was half hour late, not unexpected in the aftermath of a snowstorm. But they do seem to be maintaining it a little better. It was filled–every seat was sold for at least some part of the trip. The days of having two seats and lots of space are gone.
I didn't want to wait at the cab stand at Penn Station (it can be a very long wait) so I got on the subway and went to 53rd and 3rd, the only place with escalators to street level. No cabs were stopping there; at times as many as six people were trying to get a cab on that corner. Finally walked to 1st Ave., where I got one immediately.
Streets are relatively clean here, but corners are filled with dirty slush. There are big piles of plastic garbage bags waiting for pickup by trucks being used for street clearing. The joys of living in New York in winter, but I love it anyway.