It’s usually a lie to color the sky blue with your crayons if you live in Cleveland. Typically the sky is some shade of gray. I have come to appreciate the subtleties of the color gray and check the sky daily to see which hue the day brings. There is the gray that is almost white (like today), but I can tell it’s not white only because the gulls contrast it. Sometimes the sky is steel gray and factory smoke looks white against it. There is the gray that makes the day look dusky and everyone’s automatic headlights come on. My favorite gray sky is when there is a broad wash of palest gray that is gets pushed aside by invading almost-black clouds as they are blown rapidly across the lake; this gray comes complete with a wind soundscape.

Yesterday there was a fire in my neighborhood. Someone told me that the house that burned was vacant. The damage is not good, but I met many of my neighbors for the first time as we watched it burn.