New York City, November 5, 2014

★★ Dawn sunlight, the color of regular-grade olive oil, washed over the buildings briefly, under wrinkled gray clouds. Then the light departed, never to return. The clouds smoothed out, and then more crumpled ones moved in. The river was light gray with tiny wavelets on it. Linden leaves lay curled and yellow on the rubber padding by the empty climber as the preschooler killed time before preschool; the oaks beyond the fence were just beginning to redden. A squirrel hunched over and scrabbled in the leaves and mulch under the shrubbery. Under the scaffolding, on the high edge of a planter, amorous teens clinched. Again the clouds went smooth, the sky dull and blank through the rest of the lightless day. The mildness never blossomed into warmth.