It was Sunday afternoon, March 5, and I was at my favorite pub, on Seventh Avenue, engrossed in a weighty book of literary criticism.

Time to leave, I thought. I called my wife and told her, I’m leaving the bar, but I don’t want to go home. I think I will go downtown and take the ferry.

Good idea, she said, My wife is an affirmative person.

I just made the 5 p.m. ferry to Staten Island, and took the ferry going back. I took the photos shown below.

It was a perfect sky on a late winter day.

— Roger W. Smith