It snows in New York. I know that. I remember a few epic snowfalls and dragging a sled to Key Foods in Brooklyn and watching people cross country ski down Bleecker Street. I also remember one, maybe two days later when everything was a horrible gray, wet, slippery puddle. It snowed here two and a half weeks ago and since then there have been frequent little falls and a few bigger ones combined with mildly cold weather. The end result is a city (or at least the villages within it that I frequent) covered in white. Sure, the streets are cleared but the sidewalks and bus shelters and garbage cans and trees and abandoned bicycles are all still wearing their snow. I imagine this is what it's like to live in Colorado or Lapland but I didn't expect it in my adopted ragged urban home. Every single step out there is a playground. Excuse me while I skip over the cobblestones and through the trees.