New York City, March 5, 2017

★★★★ Round buds, lured forth by the days of warmth, stood out where the branches spread against the sharp and cold blue sky. Ears got chilled within two blocks of walking. The wind was piercing and erratic, the sun piercing and steady. The ornamental crosses and crucifixes were shrouded but every detail of the altar window was filled with strong even light. Cold air seeped along the floor in the apartment. The reflections of windows shone on the faces of other buildings and slowly turned red. Short bright daggers of contrails moved toward Newark, pommel first. The day’s only clouds spread low across the sunset to catch color in their bands.