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I
don’t mind spending part of my winter this year in New York. Even though
it was one of the coldest winters in history, and on the first day of
spring, we had a snowstorm, the beautiful snow blanketed everything in a
thick white layer, which reflects the light and kept my mood cheery and
optimistic. It rarely snows in Paris and la grisaille (the gray skies, sans la neige —
or without snow), can augment the sullen mood around town. And the only
people who you’ll see braving the cold are the hardy smokers, God love
‘em, clustered in the doorways of buildings and businesses, trying to get
as many puffs in as possible before they can’t take it anymore and head
back inside to the cozy warmth, with the rest of us.
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