★★★★ Clouds spread over the once-clear morning, splitting the remaining empty spaces into drastically different shades of blue. Within a handspan or two, the openings went from a watery near-white below the clouds to a deep sapphire in a rift. Then came an unbroken field of smooth, undulating gray, then a smoother gray, as the clouds rearranged and re-rearranged themselves. There was no consistency to the light, but the air was steadily cool and clean. Though it would have been unremarkable in terms of what October used to be, after the lingering miasma and swamp-rot of the broken seasons, it felt like a holy visitation. At sundown pink clouds ran right along the middle of the sky. Luminosity seethed through Lower Manhattan, and the buildings uptown were terracotta.