EDfFORIAL:<br > Crowds and Silences<br > n January 10 at six in file evening in Grand Central Station， it looked like the<br > beginning of the next war. Thousands of people were crammed into the<br > great hall， so many that it was nearly impossible to move. Perhaps there was a<br > coup in the government， or maybe some untold disaster had just struck. Was it in-<br > stead a rock concert? The arrival of a great religious leader? No， people were just<br > ~cAng to get home. Their eyes were transfixed on the big board above the ticket<br > <， ，nters. Was this the racetrack? The stock exchange plummeting? The effects of<br > ，，i，， previous day s blizzard had frozen the rails down， trickling a list of the few<br > ，~; that would be/imping home out of the city. Where usually there would be<br > L ， ~y trains listed for a single line over the evening hours， now the boards were<br > !3 ， n，pty. Only 13ur trains were planned on each line， no more than one an<br > ， aI3d some of these carried the legend "delayed" or even "canceled."<br > V; h，~，n a track number was posted， the scene in the crowd turned crazy.<br > ; ，;，Je aPF， lauded and cheered. From my vantage point at the top of the western<br > ，:. ! could watch individuals scattered throughout the crowd push and shove<br > t， ，~3 li-，:， n:，rrow doors at the specified gate. "Twenty-seven! Twenty-seven!<br > ，i，，~: dm~t ~ ~. please， ]et me by， gotta catch that train， only chance to get home，<br > :i! ~)c，]<e it. never seen anything like this， can you believe it， ouch， coming<br > ，.. i;. I( ;- *ne d~rough， gotta get through，" and the crowd itself became pulsar-<br > ! ~ su:7ing with the possibility that there would be a way out， one slim<br > :， ~! leaving the city that night after a day of ever-failing snow and piled-up<br > ， ~.，vc~ir，g invisible automobiles and nature speaking up， laying a firm hand<br > ~ .，r，d making any traffic at all an impossibility. Silent streets， city muffled，<br > / ~-J~ chance of escape. A humanized place with the machines shut down，<br >~" ~ ;， but people amazed at the silence brought on by a white world immobi-<br > ( b7 ~ozen water. What a world! What possibilitiesl Wh ，~ ~:~ u<br >m~ ~，me( lr so we d mana-e it - - ; ~~ ~ ~ m~a happen all<br > . 6 ， ~unrzoj It plow on despite it. The mechanized<br >c!l) turns off. The human city begins. Remember what this is like， I tell myself:<br >l(~:q:， Qis joy and this energy alive when it s instead ninety-five degrees in the<br >shade just a few global-warming months from now.<br > I finally did make it home to the hills. And the next morning headed farther<br >north up into the Catskill range， most ancient of the Northeast. The next day， I am<br >slogging， snowshoed， through eight-foot drifts toward the summit of Slide Moun-<br >tain， The normally easy trail is a genuine effort as the snow is so still and so deep.<br >It is as hard to travel through it as it was to make one s way through the stranded<br >crowds the night before--see， I think， it is always hard to get anywhere except<br >where you are. The difficulty is what makes it wonderful. Glimpsed through the<br >t~ees are the staid curves of these mountains， made more pronounced by snow. In<br >Scotland there s a loaf-shaped mountain called Suilven that no sheep dare ap-<br >