In summer, the lanes and streets of Jersey City are vibrant and loud. The smell of heady perfume mingles with a myriad odours emanating from the kitchens serving fare from Chile to Poland. Street-side vendors, artists and musicians throng the sidewalks and the sound of skateboards and scooties is all pervading.

But winter is much more quiet. The air is crisp, the wind is cold, voices carry over street and marina. The exotic flavours that briefly escape when a chef takes five tantalise the senses into a feigned hunger which cannot be sated. The cloying smell that escapes when a jacket is removed or a neck is exposed brings back all the memories associated with summer. The lights burn longer but the streets empty earlier. Solitude and single companions are more welcome than the circle of acquaintanceship. For on the street, men and women hurry through winter in expectation of spring. 

In winter, the street is an interior space, guarded in approach but inviting in scope.

Dinner Delivery Dog Walker Frosty Window Graffiti Blur