Our street gets relatively little through traffic. The result: it’s usually an oasis of easy parking, and it’s tertiary (at best) on the snowplowing list. After opting for the garage, last night, though, this Mercedes pulled into our favorite spot (the one right in front of our house, duh) as we walked back. (That’s an S-Class buried there, btw; I can’t tell the make of the car being snowblown under across the street.) This morning, I’m free of the twinge of regret that comes with losing a sweet Manhattan parking spot.