New York City, April 16, 2015

★★★★ Something that was not a pigeon or a gull circled in the sky. Cool air came in through the window. Children were out on the plaza deploying bubbles; behind Trumpville, the line of forsythia along the top of the parking garage was uninterrupted yellow. The light laid a silvery coating on everything. More leaves were emerging, as of course they would, as leaves do. The baby twins from the old apartment building came walking along the block, upright and under their own power. A deeper chill had come on to make the walk up to the grocery store for dinner less than the anticipated delight, but still more than a chore.