New York summers are without redeeming feature. A torturing mixture of sweltering heat and frayed tempers. Its springs and autumns are luminous. But what is there on this planet that can beat a New York winter? This morning, the impossible artificiality of the skyscrapers I see from my window are shrouded by dancing snowflakes, falling so thickly and so quickly that they even muffle the never ending noise of this insomniac metropolis. Beautiful.