A long late afternoon run means I am running down the sun. The clouds that started out as huge white ocean liners drifting turn dark bellied and unhappy. The gleaming limestone of the court building with its shockingly green counterpoint of verdigris balustrades washes out and ceases to sparkle as the sun drops below downtown skyscrapers. Planes lowering on final descent into La Guardia fizzle silver as the light lowers in perpendicular trajectory. The minute hands on the clock tower revolve, the hour hands tick forward, and the lights that pick them out prick on fuzzy in a humid dusk. And now I am done running and it is time to go home.