★★★ There was no compelling reason to look up at the dead and seemingly colorless morning sky, but there in it were pretty scalloped patterns of brightness and then some subtle blues. The haze or clouds thinned to pass a mellow tropical light. The air was not easy to breathe. Gradually the sun filtered more, to a clear sherry color. An immense running figure, in cirrus brushstrokes, stood in midstride over the west. The three-year-old’s newer and brighter light-up shoes went strobing down the deepening shadows under a scaffold, meeting the flash of a woman’s burnished gold sandals coming the other way. It was sweaty still in the gathering dusk. A man carried a stack of glowing artificial votive candles around the edge of the pierside cafe, setting them out one by one on the outdoor tables. The George Washington Bridge twinkled. Dark wavelets flickered on the pink field of the river. A slow fishy breeze cooled the pier a little. A young woman in flip-flops showed off for her friends by climbing to the top of the concrete barrier and stepping over the metal rail to pose over the now-dark water.