New York City, January 17, 2018

★★★★ The seething bleak gray going by the windows turned white and more opaque, and a layer of white began to appear on the fallen icy mush. There was no developing emergency, nothing to prevent the child who wasn’t coughing from making it to school. The flakes turned fatter and prettier for a while, then the light became brownish and the snowfall looked seedy again. By the time the storm had really stopped, leaving a dimpled surface of clouds overhead, it took a careful eye to pick out the traces it had all left. The pavement was clear and drying out, in an ordinary dark and damp afternoon. Wavy stripes of rose appeared through the lingering gloom at sunset, and downriver was near scarlet.