A White Christmas in New York City (if you squint a little)

It’s been more than 680 days since Central Park was dusted with more than an inch of snow, the longest and snowiest stretch in New York City since snowfall records began here in 1869. It hasn’t snowed at Christmas in 14 years.

And yet, if you knew where to look, there was snow to be found this holiday.

It swirled down Mulberry Street, among dozens of snow globes in a gift shop window. It fluttered near Union Square and was shot by a nozzle mounted on the third floor of a building. At Lincoln Center, 60 pounds of ersatz snow floated gently atop more snowflakes — well, dancers dressed as snowflakes — waltzing onto the stage.

In a season thus far devoid of actual snow falling from the sky, New Yorkers celebrated White Christmas the way they do it best: their way.

At Paragon Sports, a store near Union Square where skis and snowboards were piled high, Zach Blank, the CEO, took matters into his own hands. Last week he had soap suds sprayed from the building onto the street.

“It’s a shame it hasn’t snowed in New York City in the last year and a half,” Mr. Blank said. “Yes, they’re soap bubbles, but it’s really magical to see people walking by and wondering what’s going on and saying, ‘Oh, wait, is it snowing?'”

There is also snow in Ashley Hod’s apartment. As a dancer in the New York City Ballet’s “Nutcracker,” she unintentionally brings home artificial snowflakes after each performance. At each show, a storm of cut-paper snow falls over the dancers, the shower created by a dozen people working in the rafters. “It’s in my purse, my backpack, it’s coming out of my sneakers and it’s all over the women’s locker room,” said Ms. Hod, 28. “It’s just always following you.”

The wonder of ballerinas in a snowstorm has a small drawback: unlike real snow, paper snow never melts. “But it is very funny and special when you see a flake in June or July,” Ms Hod said.

In Yonkers, at Chilly Willy and Cool Carl’s Premium Ice Service, where decorative ice luges in the shape of Santa’s sleigh start at $175, the owner, Chilly Willy, aka Will D’Ariano, said he finds snow in abundance had, but it will cost you.

“If someone comes with a lot of money and wants a white Christmas, they pay the price to the whistler, we make sure they get all the snow they want,” says Chilly Willy, who, together with his son Chilly Willy Jr. runs the company. aka Will D’Ariano Jr. (Cool Carl retired.) “It’s never not a white Christmas.”

There’s a hint of frost in and around the city if you really hunt for it: under a school of fresh fish for sale at Chinatown’s Dahing Seafood Market, in the Bronx warehouses of Snow Fresh Foods (“an industry leader in frozen potatoes,” according to the company) and – if you’re really imaginative – in the dermatology offices of Dr. Marvin Snow, in Borough Park, Brooklyn.

For many, the situation was an unnerving reminder of the toll of global warming, a planet dramatically changing from childhoods full of snow days. And it’s not just New York. According to the National Weather Service, only about 1 percent of people in the contiguous United States experienced a white Christmas this year.

Charlotte Robbins, 37, remembered her father taking her sledding in the Bronx, when their sledding hill was Webster Avenue itself. This year, she stood in line at the American Dream shopping center in East Rutherford, NJ, on Christmas Eve Big SNOW, an indoor ski slope. She went skiing for the first time with her children and niece.

“This generation hasn’t really experienced it, it’s a bit sad,” said Ms Robbins, who works in information technology. “I pray that people will change their ways,” she added. “God created the earth for us. We have to take care of it.”

At Fifth Avenue and 18th Street on Christmas Eve, Kevin Edwards played a plaintive “Let It Snow” on his saxophone. Mr. Edwards, 62, who works as a chef in the New York legal system, has spent December weekends there for fun for the past decade, he said — even when the weather outside was terrible.

But this year, despite the 44-degree afternoon, the street where he played was virtually empty; the city is missing much more than snow, he said. “We miss love, we miss peace, we miss so much,” Mr. Edwards said before launching into his final riff: “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.” He added: “I’m trying to help.”

A woman walked by, clapping.

Amelia Nierenberg And Kirsten Luce reporting contributed.