New York City, November 12, 2014

★★★★ A misty gray view became, in the middle of breakfast, a view of nothing at all, or nothing but the ropes of the facade-repair platform’s rigging, inches outside the glass against utterly blank gray. The fog lifted for a moment, and sunshine and discolored dimness coexisted. Then the fog darkened again, heavy visual counterpoint to the unseasonable warmth. Droplets were falling or blowing, prickling on bare arms. Finally, the clouds slipped and broke. Blue appeared, and dramatic bright edges. A helicopter hovered by the Freedom Tower.