New York City, March 19, 2017

★★★★ The banks of ice were still standing. They were begrimed by now, especially on their street sides; even so, the ambient filth of days had not saturated their hard surfaces the way it would have soaked into soft snow. A dump truck went by with dirty chunks of hardened snow sticking up out of its bed. Pigeons crowded around dark yellowish and glistening chunks of food on the still-white ground inside the little fence of Sherman Square. The midday shade was a little bit too chilly after walking in the sun, but by afternoon the warmth would spread. Dirty water sparkled on its way into the storm sewer.

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