The sunsets have grown more and more spectacular, it seems. Is it the changing of the seasons? I would not have thought so. Maybe it’s that paradox of our polluted atmosphere, getting worse and worse until we get to watch the exquisite apocalypse in all its glory. In any case, there have been spectacular displays outside our bedroom windows these last few days. Deep pink, blood orange, purple over Jersey, with tiny silhouettes of planes floating in and out of Newark. Golden clouds. Art Deco sunbeams shining down between them. It’s ridiculous. Garish. Except it’s real.