New York City, November 14, 2016

★★★★ The sycamores were withered and bare; the maples still were thick with yellow and green, softly drooping. Light traced the chainlink fencing of the schoolyard and the ironwork on the townhouses across from the school and a vine in the ironwork. Far down a tunnel of shadow on a cross street was a glipse of the colors of the Park. The changes in the clouds through the day were subtle when looked at directly, but they sent the day swinging wildly between brightness and gloom before settling, early and definitely, into gloom.

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