★★★ The blue spaces between the clouds narrowed through the morning. People took their lunches out on the plaza off the street, styrofoam clamshells hanging open. A hot white glow edged the remaining blue. The old summery reek of garbage was on the air; the ice cream truck smelled of ice cream garbage. It was not too hot yet, still, but too cold indoors and on the train. The afternoon brightened for a while. Barbecue smoke or lighter-fluid smoke was on the air. The glare from the southwest brought tears to the eyes. By rush hour, things had grayed over again; the atmosphere was humid and vegetal, like the inside of a pitcher plant. People took selfies in pairs at either end of Jersey Street west of Lafayette. At the top of the subway steps uptown was a glimpse of golden light, then a foreboding gust of wind and a darkening that seemed conclusive. But the golden or white-gold light faded in for another one more moment. Then, in the dusk clouds, pale blue cracks appeared, and off to the northwest red ones.