New York City, May 4, 2017

★★★★ Pigeon spikes glittered where they’d been unnoticeable month after month after month. The glow of the day pushed its way down the steps and lit up the safety markings on a subway worker’s vest. There were just enough clouds to make the blue less than absolute—little wisps or puffs, and then smooth curving streaks of cirrus on the zenith. In late day, the clouds came on to cut off the beauty, a dull featureless sheet of them; hours later the thin covering was still there, fuzzing the shape of the gibbous moon.