Look, say what you will about the unpleasantries of winter but time and time again I’m struck by the matter-of-fact generosity of New Yorkers in inclimate weather–and in difficult moments in general. Tonight I dropped my glove in the gap between the subway and platform (no, I didn’t “mind the gap”), and two MTA workers walked over from the other side of the stop to rescue it for me because, as they put it, “why should the rats get another nest when your hand is gonna get cold.” On the ride home from dinner (admittedly, wine was drunk), I felt an immeasurable love for everyone in their cold-weather gear–still making an effort to look pretty in their carefully selected hats and scarves and coats but endearingly vulnerable nonetheless, as if we were all kindergartners clad in our finest outerwear. It doesn’t hurt that New Yorkers are astoundingly nice-looking in general. (Sorry, everyone else, but it’s true.)