New York City, September 9, 2012

★★★★ Caught, awkwardly but intriguingly, between a summer idyll and an autumn one. “The sun is in all directions,” the five-year-old said, not pleased about it. Some light and heat came in under the sycamores on the schoolyard playground, but so then did a cooling breeze. The white parts of the clouds hurt to look at, like burning magnesium. The fountain had been on the day before — the toddler’s shoes were still damp — but now it was off, and a few brown leaves had fallen onto the protective padding over the pavement. Outside the gate, an ice cream truck held its post, generator chugging. A slab of ice cream lay on the blacktop, still squared off even as a film of melted cream puddled around it.