Whenever I see this photo, Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson plays in my head. I imagine an old man sitting alone on the bench, tucked into an ancient but sturdy wool coat, handkerchief in hand. He lost his love just before the first snow of the season. Winter was her favorite time of the year. The air was crisp, people became more cuddly, and she could sit in front of the fireplace and read for as long as she pleased. It was a time for rest and quiet contemplation. They would sit on this bench together during the snowy days, hold hands, and watch the ducks skate across the pond. He teased that they should be spending their golden years sipping umbrella drinks under palm trees. She promised that someday she would cave and they would travel South.
Now, he would gladly spend all the days of his life in this snow just to have her by his side again.