There has been a thaw or two since the Valentine’s Day storm here, but none have managed to budge the remains from that lethal combination of slush and a sudden dramatic drop in temperature. As a result, we still walk among that day’s urban icebergs: the frozen piles of dirty snow, petrified on our sidewalks. In them, the detritus of city life has accumulated: discarded coffee cups (most inevitably from Dunkin’ Donuts), charlie cards, cigarrette butts. A single dropped glove, perhaps left inadvertently or given up as a lost cause when bracing oneself against the wind, trying to gain a foothold when there was none along a slick stretch. By the courthouse, I spotted the remains of a Dunkin’ Donuts bag, which must have gotten frozen in a layer of ice before the ice melted again, tearing the bag apart into tiny pieces that could not disperse before the next frost came.