New York City, March 26, 2015

★★★★ In the sleepy cloudshade of morning, a teen on the bench pinched a rolling paper in his fingers, surrounded by other teens. The tag came off the waterproof jacket that had been waiting in the closet since Christmas. A light and harmless drizzle started falling. Walking was still pleasant; the smell of cart food rode the damp air. A real, demoralizing darkness settled over the early afternoon. Suddenly it lifted, and there was sun on the fire escape, warm sun, and the sky opening out into blue and white, even though the Empire State Building was vanishing in drifting yellow-gray smoke, and Lower Manhattan was still veiled in humidity or lingering rain. The interlude was over by rush hour. The rat down in the uptown B/D track bed was so fat it needed an extra moment to squeeze under the rail. It crossed to the downtown side and mounted or assailed another rat — or vice versa, the rats being equally sleek — till one tossed the other away with a sharp lurch and chirp. Up by 72nd Street golden light broke through again, and the mildness was gladdening. An agitated man yelled at passersby. Clouds blew along either side of a moon cut neatly scant of half, the mare matching the bright blue of the sky. The children and other children scattered from the apartment building, scooter borne, to seize the chance.