… I admit, it was a little scary walking around the West Village when all the lights were off. Scenes from "I am Legend" ran repeatedly through my mind, particularly as I stood at our front door, fumbling for my keys in the dark, all senses on alert for unseen danger. The streets were mostly empty, the black punctuated by flashlights bouncing along mid-air, seemingly unsupported. Police manned every corner, red flares by their feet warning cars to slow down through intersections. Each night, it felt like time stood still and sound was muffled by a cloak of pure and oppressive black.
To keep the dark at bay, we filled our apartment with lots of candles. We had fun talking for hours, planning our lives, travels and other adventures. One night, we baked banana bread to warm up our house and fill it with delicious smells. We sat in cafes lit by flickering candles and sipped cold coffees, warmed by a shared sense of adventure. On Friday evening, we walked to the Empire State Building, and marveled at the endless blanket of lights looking up town; while our little West Village looked dark, forlorn and forgotten.
When we woke up on Saturday morning, the lights were on. My hot shower felt like the height of luxury, my latte like a little piece of heaven and the cold finally left my bones a few hours later over a lingering brunch in Soho. We are so fortunate. While lower Manhattan is getting back on its feet again, there are still people across the North East who are homeless, cold and hungry. You can help the relief efforts here.
From New York, with love xox
ps. you can see what the West Village looked like after Sandy here.