Centennial Plaza
Cold. It was cold when we took these. So cold I thought the statues were frozen brittle and would break if we touched them. When we arrived there were a few other people taking a quick look at the plaza but they quickly submitted to the conditions and we were alone on that Saturday night. The game was long over and we had wandered back intending to go to a little bistro we knew across the street from the arena only to find that it was closed. Then we saw the statues almost like we were seeing them for the first time because we were completely alone with them. The locals were all inside. Nobody was wandering the streets. There were cars going by but the windows were sealed cutting off any human noise. Only the drone of the engines remained and it was dulled by the air; yes, it was that kind of dull freezing air that acts as a sound buffer. It was definitely not the kind of crystal-cold night where you can hear sounds from miles away like a tree limb snapping or a train rattling over steel. Just a constant, oppressive, stifling cold that rendered any exposed skin numb in seconds and yet imparted a strange beauty to the scene. I’m not sure that the pictures convey the experience and I’m not sure these words do either but we have to try, don’t we?
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