I’m a child of California: while I’ve certainly seen snow before, the prospect of a blizzard is still enough to make me giddy. However, snow in New York City is more of a black slushy nightmare: public transportation hold-ups, slippery sidewalks, biting cold to endure. So I was ecstatic to spend Snowstorm Nemo out of the city: a yoga retreat in the Berkshires was the perfect escape.
We went to sleep with a light smattering of snow on the ground, and woke up to a true winter wonderland: bright white snow, bare trees dancing in the wind, blue skies stretching out over the frozen ponds and open space. A delightful switch from skyscrapers and sleet.