★★★★★ The darkness and the sound of heavy rain kept a long deep sleep in place, till the late morning brightened. The view out the rain-spotted glass darkened again, then the light swelled again. The clouds blew quickly northward, tearing as they went, revealing white and blue beyond them. A window or two had been tipped open on the glass tower across the street. It was mild enough to try sliding the living room window open; the air came in fresh. The sky cleared further, and suddenly a blinding gold-white fog filled the view to the south. As the swimming things were being gathered for a trip to the pool, dark gray closed overhead again. The sidewalks by the avenue were mirrors and a light rain was pattering down, even as a jaundiced light overspread everything. The four-year-old trudged along uncomplainingly with raindrops landing on his raised hood. All at once a full rainbow was crossing the air over Broadway, spanning the whole northern sky. There was nothing elusive about it; everything changeable and erratic in the heavens had rendered a firm and logical conclusion. It held there for minutes, a feature of the landscape, revealed from different vantage points as one walked: passing behind buildings at its high point, plunging down over 72nd Street and east toward the Park, where it lingered after the left-hand part had faded. The boy’s socks were wet. Rugged majesties of gray and pink moved through the sky out the wall of windows by the pool. A bit of delicate pale blue glimmered on a knot of cloud high up in the gathering dark. It was not cold yet on the walk back, but the wind was gathering force. By bedtime it thumped against the building.