New York City, March 31, 2013

★★★ The morning was tinted with haze and mild enough to be a little startling. Dress shoes clicked along the sidewalk, past flowerbeds of tulips sprouting, tulips budding, and then tulips in bloom, red and pointy-edged ones. A chilly gust tumbled through the churchyard as the children emerged and scattered, avid for eggs. An overlooked prize glimmered in the ground cover, inches or less from being stepped on. The haze was becoming clouds, and then the clouds were becoming thicker. In the afternoon, the toddler watched and pointed at the airplanes passing, deep gray against the medium gray. Droplets streaked the windows as the daylight and the dryness gave out together, into a shiny, wet night.