★★★ Older kids, shrieking and hunched over with their hands in their pockets, scurried into the wind toward the high school. “The colder it is, the longer the walking takes,” the kindergartener said. By the time he got home again, afternoon light was scattering everywhere. In all directions, as far as the view could go, clockwise from south-southwest to north-northeast, the buildings had reflections of other buildings’ windows on them. Out on the Hudson, the shade-side windows of boats were lit up like camp lanterns. Downstream, behind the boxed-up scaffolded form of the space shuttle, a monumental row of footlights stuck out into the river, shining white. Under binoculars, the lighting rig resolved into the sun-struck windshields of cars parked on the top deck of the Circle Line pier, more than a mile away.