New York City, April 6, 2015

★★★★ Faint clouds brushed the sky, and a bit of haze adhered to the landscape. Why, the three-year-old asked, were some windows open on the tower over there? The answer, determined experimentally, was that the air was worth letting in. More and more windows peeped open, as the discovery spread. The walk along Broadway was chilly facing uptown away from the sun and balmy coming back. The air felt clearer than it looked. The children sprinted off ahead; the open sidewalk a runway. Two potted palms in the curbside plant vendor’s array were flung over by the wind, toppling into the roadway. The sound of a bagpipe outside the 72nd Street subway control house carried, but could not overwhelm the other sounds on the busy air. By late afternoon, the persistent breeze had broken the grip of the warmth. The haze glowed with colors on the river, though if you looked past that, seeking the high ground in the distance, it just seemed grimy.