New York City, July 4, 2013

★★★ Oversized cumulus clouds stretched from the towers on the west to the towers on the east, being picturesque and cutting off the light. When the sun was out, it stabbed at the nape of the neck. The sidewalks were reasonably well occupied, and the air was not as soggy as it had been. Old people’s knees and young people’s shoulders were on display. A piece of orange peel baked dry on a sidewalk grate. Another piece, possibly finishing the peel of the same orange, baked on the sidewalk a few steps on. Men had made some incorrect decisions about which of their undershirts could be passed off as clothing. Around the back of the building, in the garden, the immense lobby welcome mat was slung over some long, low garden feature to air out, recovering from the week of rain. In the cloud shadow, the wind was mildly exhilarating. By dinnertime, the sky had cleared out, save for a few pretty pink-and-gray clouds decorating the west. The air was clean and hot, and the lowering sun haloed the heads of citizens walking west to the river. A fledgeling grackle, soft pale down tufting out here and there, fluttered to climb the chain-link fence overlooking Riverside Park South, then dropped back down, chattering at passersby. It eventually got through the fence and crouched in a hollow, still chattering. An adult grackle came by, briefly, and studied the scene. The tall bank down to the river was frosted with clover blossoms. Above the edge of the elevated Joe DiMaggio Highway, the dark familiar shapes of police officers’ caps poked up against the lovely late blue.