After the weather cools down and tourists leave, Cape May slows its pulse and tucks herself in for winter hibernation.
It’s been a crazy few months, to say the least. This previous semester (and past 3 years?!?) has absolutely flown by, and it was going home for winter break that made me realize how we take the slow moments for granted. Reading in the evenings, watching the sunset, making dinner. These are the times that really make life special. If nothing else, January will always be for embracing slow moments.
I’ve never really been a fan of snow. It’s cold and messy and makes me want to sulk in my cave of movies and junk food, but the bewildering snowfall in the past few days enchanted me to leave my miniature hibernation. I went to bed in sleepy old Cape May, and woke up the next day in a snow globe: everything coated with a heavy white blanket. While I was a day or two late getting to the sunken ship (pictured below), the frozen floor of ice presented a spectacle I hadn’t seen since I was a child, if even then. It was so dense that people were actually walking out on to it, and the fact that anyone at all actually got outside for a sunset in the winter spoke for itself.
Reporting as a news anchor with a bottle of beer instead of a microphone, this guy seemed to be having a grand old time.
At first glance, the frozen plain of ice seemed like terrain from another planet. So I decided, why not have a little fun with editing my pictures? Kids turn into astronauts, and snow turns into Saturn.