New York City, April 10, 2013

★★★★ In the span of less than 15 minutes, the morning clouds cracked apart and blew away. Daffodils in the building’s side garden were toppling over under their own weight. On Broadway, a man in a black ball cap was lettering “HomeLess” in outline on a fresh piece of cardboard. A half-dozen Mormon missionaries, in neckties and shirtsleeves, were gathered on the subway platform. Downtown, an immense model’s cleavage was coming unzipped in her bathing suit, up against the water towers and the sky. By late day, on the way out of the office, drops were falling from a bright sky; uptown, after a train ride, the contradiction had resolved itself into darkening gray. Night was falling too fast and with sinister pale dents in it. There was lightning over New Jersey, then lightning and thunder close by and all around, and real rain falling. And then came a different, rounder booming noise, clapping off the buildings: The storm had paused long enough for fireworks in the Park.