Boston to New York City, June 3, 2013

★★ The sky was emptying itself out. A woman in flip-flops trudged straight through a full, streaming gutter, pushing a stroller. There was no shelter or relief between the cab stand and steps up to the door of South Station, and the winding ramp was not even worth considering. The concrete trough between the rails was a pond. For a while, the rain and condensation and drops on the windows combined to be almost opaque, but then somewhere east of East Haven the sun came out. Then on the approach through the Bronx into Queens, there was an orange tinge to the light, and gray was covering Manhattan. Ominously cool, wet air flowed down the steps of the 66th Street station as the elevator arrived. Still, the darkening clouds held back while the luggage and stroller rolled home. The radar showed a hard, tight line advancing. The sky over New Jersey had gone past dark into bright silver when the first drops hit the window. Then the silver was everywhere, and the far shore was almost invisible. The pizza man in his slicker got 20 percent. The sun made its curtain call and descended, red as cherry candy.