New York City, July 29, 2012

★★★★ “Cover up,” said the book man on Broadway, looking at the sky. “Two minutes to cover up.” It was 4:25 in the afternoon. Breezes had been moving the clouds out and in again all day: a cool gray morning, a bright midday, and now gray returning, deep gray, with a flicker of lightning. Raindrops started bouncing off the plastic wrapping on a case of ramen on a pallet outside the Fairway, at 4:27 on the nose. Inside, dry shoppers passed newly rain-spattered ones. In the time it took to buy a basket of groceries, the breeze carried most of the shower away. Some people kept their umbrellas up, walking past the dropcloth-covered book tables, but they didn’t need them. Soon, the clouds were safely picturesque again — a pile of cumulus, going from pink to purple, with the lights of each evening airplane flashing under it, receding up the Hudson. A blimp idled to one side. Off in the east, between buildings and out from beneath a sliding cloud, the rising gibbous moon found an opening to shine.

Weather ratings range from zero to five stars.