Last Thursday, despite of the weather, I decided to be a tourist. For some reason, I just got it in my head that I had to see the Rockefeller Tree. Pushing through the crowd of out-of-towners with their large umbrellas and fancy cameras who were stopping to look at a map every other second, bickering and complaining about all the people, I was able to weave in and around them with ease. By myself I was slipping through cracks as they opened and passing people as if they were standing still. Even though I get claustrophobic in situations like those the energy of the surrounding throng was surprisingly festive. The ever present drizzle seemed to put only a minor damper on the excitement of the season. As I lifted my camera under someone else's umbrella to take a quick snap shot of the plaza, a little boy threw his arms open with a giant smile looking up at the flashing lights of giant snowflakes on the opposite building. It was a magical sight. Not just the lights and trees and glowing angles making silent music that made up the spectacular holiday display, it was the atmosphere created by the bustle of people celebrating in as simple a way as getting together and going for a walk on a cold December night.
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