New York City, March 31, 2016

★★★★★ A little haze tempered the brightness of the sky, and dampness sweetened the air. A barista and a customer discussed the reasoning behind sticking, for the moment, with hot coffee over iced. Clouds slowly thickened, and warmth floated over cool currents, the temperature as richly layered as the light was flat and thin. It was necessary to get out in it, to find reason to walk extra blocks. The yielding and turning and holding of the prop-weight vestibule door outside the cafe was choreographic. A hot dog cart seemed the reincarnation of the first hot dog cart ever seen on the streets of the big city. Men stood handsome and sufficient in suits. Maybe they were someone. So many people might have been. A child on a tiny bicycle rounded the sidewalk corner onto Fifth, bell ringing all the way. The persistent bleakness of the light made it look from the office as if conditions must have turned, but they had not; walking out was the same surprise all over again.