It was snowing as I was walking home from work today. It swirled through the folds of my black coat and, soon, the hem had an icy frosting.

I learned later, however, that this may not have actually been snow. This, in fact, might have been sleet. Or wetter snow. Not the kind that “dances”.

Neither the kids down the block nor I knew the difference, though. They were squealing with delight and sticking their tongues out, waiting for the snowflakes (or whatever the sleet equivalent is) to collect in their mouths.

I’ve had a lot of new experiences in New York. Add snow (or sleet or whatever this is) to the list.