Ode to Tenth Street

My second semester started with snow. Like, a lot of snow. I had returned to the city a few days ahead of schedule, trying to get situated back in my dorm before the storm hit. It was a good thing too, because the following night, and all through the next day, the NYC streets were blanketed in over 26 inches. Of course, this was nothing compared to the nearly 30 inches my family had to shovel that weekend in rural Virginia, but when one of the busiest cities in the world gets dumped with over two feet of snow, it's a weird thing to see, to say the least.

Our view of Tenth Street during the snow storm

My roommate and I trudged through the snow from our dorm on East Tenth Street to the West Fourth subway station, a solid twenty-minute walk in normal conditions, in an attempt to "rescue" our suitemate who had been traveling via Amtrak from Boston back to the city. After arriving at the station (thoroughly soaked, might I add), we received a phone call from our suitemate. She told us that she was already back at the room--she had come in through the Eighth Street station instead of West Fourth, which was only a few blocks away from our dorm, and had made it back in hardly no time at all. My roommate and I nearly sobbed. 

Lois, my roommate, in Washington Square Park

Frostbite and unsuccessful rescue missions aside, we did manage to stock up on some food at a nearby Duane Reade, as well as take some cute pictures in Washington Square Park. Walking into our warm room, hands full of plastic bags and our coats dripping onto the wood floors, I felt a little like I was coming back home. We spent the rest of the evening around the TV, watching dumb movies on Netflix while our frozen limbs thawed, taking intermittent breaks to peer out onto Tenth Street from our ninth-story window; the city was white and, almost impossibly, still. 

I bring up this particularly snowy and cold day to highlight the point at which Tenth Street started to feel like the driveway leading up to my front door. Even after the Winter Wonderland Effect wore off, and the nasty, black slush melted away (a word of warning to anyone visiting the city in the winter: those dirty pools of water in the middle of the crosswalk? The moat which rims the edges of every block? Yeah, they're not as shallow as they might seem), there was a kind of magic in turning the corner off University Place and walking the length of the block on Tenth every day.

Ritzy apartments and antique shops on Tenth

For many of those who have never lived there, New York City is Big Lights and the Empire State Building. It's Times Square, with screens so bright you can mistake their glow for daylight even in dead of night; it's crowds so large and maddening you can't breathe. They think Wall Street or they think Broadway, and that's New York City. And you know, it's true, to a certain extent; New York is busy and bright and crowded, and sometimes there's so many people around and you feel so small and unimportant that you can't breathe. But that's only sometimes.

Another glorious pic of, you guessed it, Tenth St

For me, this past year in NYC was East Tenth Street. It was coming back from an early 9:30 class, my lunch in a plastic "I Heart NYC" bag swinging from my hand, admiring the sunshine as it filtered through bright green leaves and bounced off multicolored apartment buildings. It was overhearing loud, drunken shouts and laughter from the street nine stories up at 3 a.m., and sometimes shouting back. It was stopping to marvel at the gorgeous, yellow tulips planted on the street, their petals wide and lovely, creating springtime shadows on the pavement. It was using the hourly bell chimes from Grace Church as a way to tell the time, and getting lavender and Thai tea ice cream from Sundaes and Cones on warm nights. It was excellent, overpriced gelato at Amorino, crazy, seasonal window-displays at University Floral Design on the corner, swanky, elderly patrons at Ristorante Il Cantori, and antique stores that no one ever stepped foot inside. It was bumping into a surprising amount of celebrities doing very normal things, like Zooey Deschanel grocery shopping, or 6' 2'' Michael Che taking up most of the sidewalk while talking to a friend. It was seeing Alec Baldwin at least twice a day, and hoping he wouldn't punch you for staring at him a beat too long. 

I had so many incredible adventures this school year, many of which I intend to backtrack and tell on this blog throughout the summer, but those adventures would not have been possible if I didn't have a base to rest and recharge, somewhere I felt at home while being so very far from home. Tenth Street gave that to me, a little block of familiarity and comfort in the hectic city. 

Come the end of August, I'll be moving into my new dorm-home in the West Village, an area of Greenwich I have only recently started to explore but already is becoming one of my favorite parts of the city. I'll probably never be able to afford to live on East Tenth ever again, which does make me a little sad. However, that's the inevitable and perpetual motion of NYC: people and businesses come and go, little pockets are abandoned to make room for new lives and stories. And I know my New York story is only just beginning.