After living on mostly numbered streets for countless years—23rd St., Fifth Ave., W 56th, etc.—I’m experiencing a bit of joy in finding myself along roads with names like: Curly Hill, Creamery, Stone Bridge, or in this case, Silo Hill. The temp on this particular day was hovering around 3° or 4°—and when I opened my car door to snag this shot, the wind nearly blew me over. The payoff was worth it: a snow-white-colored barn set against a backdrop of frosty clouds and a chilled-blue sky.
After living on mostly numbered streets for countless years—23rd St., Fifth Ave., W 56th, etc.—I’m experiencing a bit of joy in finding myself along roads with names like: Curly Hill, Creamery, Stone Bridge, or in this case, Silo Hill. The temp on this particular day was hovering around 3° or 4°—and when I opened my car door to snag this shot, the wind nearly blew me over. The payoff was worth it: a snow-white-colored barn set against a backdrop of frosty clouds and a chilled-blue sky.