New York City, May 6, 2015

★★★★ The gray morning was gentle on the eyes and cool like damp concrete. Petals and maybe a raindrop blew on the breeze. People were still out in cutoffs. Intermittent sun would appear, allowing them to justify the decision. It was hard to tell the film-crew members from the people staring at the film crew from the people who were just standing around out in the air. There was blue and white in the rush-hour sky, and then uptown it was totally and disorientingly clear and blue, with the late light flowing over everything and the Park a bright green little door at the end of the long narrow corridor of the shadowed crosstown blocks. Sun passed through the depths of the monkfish cheeks, lifted out of their pan on the spatula, till the last traces of translucent pink were gone.