New York City, December 10, 2014

★★★ Yet another dim morning. A thin cold rain became thin wet snow, only distinguishable from rain at first when it landed and stuck to a dark wool coat sleeve. Then it was visible as falling snow, and then the snow was heavier, the flakes twisting different ways in the air. Metal was slippery. On an afternoon walk, the flakes covered the front of the coat. A delivery crew offloaded shrink-banded bundles of firewood and fed them through a service door. In the evening dark the snow was picturesque and unpleasant, swirling with vague aggression. It stuck to parked construction equipment, clung to a dirty and jagged-tipped traffic cone. Up by the movie theater, it pulled the eye away from the floodlit tented red carpet to the ordinary unsheltered glow of the streetlights