New York City, August 30, 2012

★★★★ Bright again. The trigeminal nerve, jolted by reflecting light and a new stick of gum, fired off the morning sneeze a few steps earlier than usual. The sun found its way under the perpetually dim, dank scaffolding on 67th Street and was caught in the netting there. For once, there was no smell of dog urine. By afternoon, the sparkling sky had gone duller and quartzy. It took a while, out in the day, to shake off the nasty bone-chill of the air conditioning.