New York City, March 2, 2015

★★ No sooner had the gray lifted and one’s guard lowered than the blue sky went away and snowflakes fell again. A rainy-day dampness was on the air. An oncoming extra-wide stroller filled all the space between snowbanks. A man walked by wearing bright blue-white low-top canvas sneakers, the toes gravely besmirched with slush-grime. Downtown the sun was coming out but the sidewalks were even slushier. Stray snowflakes still blew down, so bright in the sunshine it seemed as if they ought to have melted. By early afternoon the sky was clear and everything was dripping. The melt had come on so fast that the little islands of surviving snow in the wet bicycle lane hadn’t had a chance to lose their whiteness. In the intense shade and shelter of Jersey Street, the snow looked new-fallen. Back uptown, the sun shone on the red eye of a white pigeon, and on the thin stream of water pouring from a scaffold, landing with a rattle and spray on the top trash bag in a curbside pile.