After the Storm
After the Storm
- Photo essay by
- Lara Ajami
I went out for a quick errand, literally thought it would take five minutes. The street was quiet, draped in fresh white, like the storm came and left on good terms. Then I took one step… and realized exactly what was hiding under that calm.
Up close, the picture changes. The snow isn’t bright anymore, it’s turning gray. Footprints are frozen in place like they got stuck mid-walk. And it’s not even “snow” at this point. It’s ice that doesn’t budge.
Some sidewalks weren’t cleared at all, so they turned into little walls. You end up hopping over piles just to move forward. And right when you think it’s finally over… it starts snowing again. Soft flakes, falling like nothing happened, like the storm is trying to cover its tracks.
That’s the dangerous part. Fresh snow doesn’t fix anything, it hides everything. You can’t tell where it’s safe to step and where it’s slick underneath. One wrong step and you’re sliding before you even understand why.
This is when the “pretty snow” feeling disappears. You hear it everywhere, metal scraping the pavement. People aren’t enjoying the view. They’re just trying to break the same frozen spots again and again to open one narrow path that actually works.
It’s the part that never makes it into the 'aesthetic' posts. The shine is gone, and you’re just left with the messy, real-life reality of people trying to get through the day.
Then the melting starts, and the truth shows up. Slush. Dirty snow. Mud. And random stuff left behind because the city keeps moving. like a broken scooter dumped on the sidewalk. Small thing, but it makes walking even harder.
And still, people keep going. Nobody waits for sidewalks to be “perfect.” They take whatever narrow path they can find, and if it disappears, some walk right next to traffic. The goal is simple: get where they’re going, despite any obstacles.
Snowstorms start like a beautiful idea. But they end as a patience test. The clouds move on, the sky clears… and the maze stays. Sometimes one cleared strip is enough to remind you: the city didn’t disappear. It’s just being put back together.
I went out for a quick errand, literally thought it would take five minutes. The street was quiet, draped in fresh white, like the storm came and left on good terms. Then I took one step… and realized exactly what was hiding under that calm.
Up close, the picture changes. The snow isn’t bright anymore, it’s turning gray. Footprints are frozen in place like they got stuck mid-walk. And it’s not even “snow” at this point. It’s ice that doesn’t budge.
Some sidewalks weren’t cleared at all, so they turned into little walls. You end up hopping over piles just to move forward. And right when you think it’s finally over… it starts snowing again. Soft flakes, falling like nothing happened, like the storm is trying to cover its tracks.
That’s the dangerous part. Fresh snow doesn’t fix anything, it hides everything. You can’t tell where it’s safe to step and where it’s slick underneath. One wrong step and you’re sliding before you even understand why.
This is when the “pretty snow” feeling disappears. You hear it everywhere, metal scraping the pavement. People aren’t enjoying the view. They’re just trying to break the same frozen spots again and again to open one narrow path that actually works.
It’s the part that never makes it into the 'aesthetic' posts. The shine is gone, and you’re just left with the messy, real-life reality of people trying to get through the day.
Then the melting starts, and the truth shows up. Slush. Dirty snow. Mud. And random stuff left behind because the city keeps moving. like a broken scooter dumped on the sidewalk. Small thing, but it makes walking even harder.
And still, people keep going. Nobody waits for sidewalks to be “perfect.” They take whatever narrow path they can find, and if it disappears, some walk right next to traffic. The goal is simple: get where they’re going, despite any obstacles.
Snowstorms start like a beautiful idea. But they end as a patience test. The clouds move on, the sky clears… and the maze stays. Sometimes one cleared strip is enough to remind you: the city didn’t disappear. It’s just being put back together.
