New York City, June 26, 2013

★★★ The low-amplitude heat wave rolled on, without crest or breaking point. The kindergarteners lined up at their final dropoff, in t-shirts and shorts. The playground fountains were off, but they had washed the concrete map of the United States into bright color again. Air conditioners splattered a heavy dripline along 70th Street. How to blot the moisture without wiping off sunscreen? The subways went bad before the streets did; the 72nd Street platform was like a dead-end exhaust vent, local and express both holding there, both squeezed full of people. Downtown, bicycles chattered along in little packs, and the Citi Bike rack was nearly empty. On a side street, a cool breeze slid under the leaves. The air conditioning in the office made knees stiffen up. Downtown had not changed all day, but Lincoln Square was overcast at the end of the train ride, heavy clusters of gray broken by an occasional sliver of blue if you tried to find one. Quietly, in the time it took to cook dinner, the pavement ended up wet and puddled. The sun, peeping out from under a ragged edge of cloud, looked like something from an airbrushed devotional poster. Then it emerged entire as something eerier and more stirring, flame orange haloed with a penetrating magenta, slowly descending.