On the first trip, as the subway halted to a stop, we prepared to exit the cart. Unlike other subway platforms, the Brighton station was above ground. The sunlight enlightened the sky, offering the illusion that the outside would be warm and inviting. However, the outside was frigid, acerbated by the bright, white snow that populated the floor. My fingers numbed as it met the air, fostering a sense of regret that I didn’t bring my gloves. I took a deep breath and then exhaled. Fog-like breath left my mouth, creating the fallacious impression that I was smoking. The cold air crept up a few inches of my sleeves, where it met my body heat that was protected by the jacket that I was wearing. I thought myself lucky that I had packed lightly for this trip, anticipating hours of walking. As we exited the subway platform, the metallic turnstiles at least offered some sense of warmth. We, then, made our way out of the platform and into the beach.
On our second trip, the subway car came to a stop and we exited the car. Despite the fact the snow was absent, the sunlight seemed brighter than before, complementing the warm weather outside the subway car. A light sweater, however, was necessary to shield from the brief gusts of cold air. As we waited for the last member of our group to arrive, I rejoiced in the fact that I was able to move my fingers around this time around! As the subway came and went, gusts of air rushed past my face. Finally, when our group member arrived, we made our way to the neighborhood.
On that cold day, snow enveloped the sand of the beach. In fact, even the menially bright sunlight seemed to glimmer after being reflected off the white snow. Almost as a whim, I bent down to pick up a little bit of snow. Gladly, my fingers were so numb that the heat that was being robbed from my body was ignored. We, then, proceeded to the water. To my surprise, the water was much warmer than I expected. In fact, it seemed that the sea water had melted the surrounding snow, exposing the wet sand underneath. I touched the wet, soggy sand, which stuck to my finger. Huge rocks also defined the jetty, which apparently no one could walk on. Touching the wet part of the rock felt slippery and smooth, as if subjected to years of erosion by the crashing waves. The dry part of the rock felt dry and lifeless. We then proceeded to explore the rest of the beach.
A worry crept down my spine as we traversed the beach on our second trip. Because of the lack of snow, what if sand invaded my shoes? What if, while walking near the water, the water wets my shoe, making travel uncomfortable? The joviality of the beach distracted me from these concerns, however. I picked up the sand as we entered the beach. I seemed dry and empty. In contrast, the ocean water seemed to support numerous forms of life. We approached a horseshoe crab laying upside down near the beach. Assuming it was dead, we picked it up. It felt smooth and dry, probably resulting from the evaporation of water by the sunlight. After seeing it move one of its legs, a shock ran though my body and we decided that it was best to return it to the sea. Instead of aimlessly walking the vast beach, we decided to walk toward the boardwalk, a distance to which seemed rather small. Minutes seemed tantamount to hours as the boardwalk seemed to be getting further away with each step forward that we took. My legs ached. Challenging Robin to a race, I ran down the beach for a solid minute only to realize that some of our group members didn’t participate in the race, causing us to wait for those team members. Upon finally reaching the boardwalk, the wood felt hard and broken, as if subjected to years of aging. We, then, resolved to get food.
For the first trip, we knew that we had reached heaven when we brought the Pirashki, a delicious bread that seemed to feel like a very soft pillow upon contact. I squeezed the Pirashki, enjoying both the softness of the delicacy and the warmth that it offered. When I bit into the food, it seemed to come off easily. Upon entering a store to purchase our drink, we encountered many drinks that seemed enjoyable. We ended up getting a drink that was contained in a rectangular box. We also brought French chocolate, which although hard at first, ended up melting in my mouth. After finding an isolated spot on the beach we ate the remaining of our food as the frigid air took some enjoyment out of the meal.
In the second trip, we brought Pirashki once again because of its alluring softness and taste. Someone in the group suggested that we eat on the way home. Despite the fact that I was reluctant to eat on the subway, my growling stomach convinced me otherwise. The warmth of the subway car contrasted with the frigidness of the first trip.
We were delighted to meet the warm air of the subway car. We took our seats next to awkward New Yorkers who seemed to be starring off into the void. The seats were hard but inviting. The train made its way forward, offering a sharp, short-lived force to the passengers of the train. We headed home.
~Abraham
