New York City, January 4, 2017

★★★ Lines of dampness traced the paving joints of the roofdecks, and a once-impressive umbrella lay in ruins by the curb, but the breeze was dry and the sun was working on shining over the schoolyard. The clouds came back to quash the later morning, then finally relented. Clear, pure light took over till the last few tiny clouds turned delicate pink. The wind at twilight was not cold but it was strong enough to squeeze a tear from an eye and send it crawling sideways along the cheekbone. A dropped cigarette rolled away in a trail of sparks before the smoker caught it and stomped it out. Clear plastic bags rattled over the discarded Christmas trees walling off the street.