New York City, May 13, 2015
★★★★★ The leaves below, now thickly massed, heaved in the breeze. Cool air blew in over bare toes; music carried up and in. Out on the downtown sidewalk the ends of a man’s skinny red necktie separated at right angles. Green treeshade lay under cloudshade. Up on the office roof, the wind seemed to be blowing dry dirt out of the planters onto the white cushions of the furniture. Two downy little squabs huddled together on the guano-spattered windowsill of the next building. The taxi crosstown passed a playground; a paper airplane speared up past the top of the high chain-link fence. The roof now where the cocktails were came with an immense portion of sky, blues and grays and whites. A little bird crossed the deck like a feathered bullet. To the south the clouds were somber and glow-cut. That it was too cold up in the open was a personal failing, a momentary idiocy committed walking past the coat closet hours before, nothing to be held against this enlarged and long-lasting day or its air currents. The brownies were warm. Ice lingered in a cup of rye. The brisk air bore away cigarette smoke, nicotine vapor, marijuana vapor. The wood stove was lit, paper spreading to kindling to high-piled chunks, till in no time at all the denim in the fireward leg of the jeans was alarmingly hot. A burning end of wood fell out onto the floor and had to be returned. The cabbie afterward kept his window open and smoked in retaliation for having to take a fare uptown.