New York City, March 7, 2013

[No stars] A peek out the window found snowless ground, an illusion of reprieve quickly dispelled by airborne flakes floating past. The snow thickened for a while, but that was an illusion too: the first in a string of damp squibs trying to pass for firecrackers. Now the snow swirled; now it blew sideways; now the vectors turned vertical as rain mixed in; now… where was it? It was bright and snowing again, then dark and snowless. Everything but a committed, proper snowstorm. By evening, with thick flakes aloft again on the wind by the river, it couldn’t even sustain conversation at a cocktail party.