New York City, July 30, 2012

★★★ What came through the windows was glaring and humid. Not bad, not something to hide from, but not worth making a point of going out into. It was something to look at, occasionally, as the hours went by, the browser choked out on accumulating tabs, and the baby painted his way along the wall with a ripe apricot crushed in his fist. The breeze flowed in damply, right on the edge between helpful and unhelpful, take it or leave it. But outside, before sunset, the air was cool, truly cool, and the breeze was bracing. Had it been this way all day? Was it a mistake to have missed so much of it? A sun-wearied child set things straight: No, and no.