4/1 A flat impenetrable layer of clouds, blueish-grey, lies over the Hudson southward, and in front of my window it has a sharp edge where it borders on nothing but clear evening sky, with the edges of the clouds illuminated in ocre light. This edge of the cloud ceiling forms a wide curve, which makes it even more obvious that there’s some kind of cold or warm front separating the one area from the other. And it moves south slowly, or in other words, the sky clears. I think how this, for me, gigantic bay of a cloud beach must be a tiny detail when seen from an airplane or perhaps a satellite, and then how structures like this must be forming, on slightly different space and time scales, every moment in the river below, and the kitchen sink to my right.