New York City, June 26, 2017

★★★★★ At bedtime, there had been discussion about whether to turn the air conditioning on, but before morning came it was necessary to grope for the warmer bedclothes in the dark and to try to get under them. The airflow outside was gently refreshing; only the most wide-open stretches of sidewalk were overheated. The shade was sensational. Breeze slipped between the buttons of the shirt. Little ripples shimmered on a filthy puddle. The full sun was too much for the eyes but it hit the body no harder than a particularly focused masseuse digging in. The light struck something harmonic in the Consolidated Edison Building, sending a soft radiance out from its limestone, past the hideous flat-brick towers intervening between it and Union Square. Along 14th Street, its rows of blockwork, offset by perspective, looked like punchcard marks. The Chrysler Building stood uptown in cloud shade like a tall person trying not to be noticed at the edge of a party. On an uptown street corner, a glance up and around to check for glare or gloom found nothing but easy brightness as far as the sky went. At dusk the ten-year-old stood on the couch to take a picture of the setting crescent moon.