Several weeks ago, on a night flight from Chicago to LaGuardia in foggy conditions, our pilot came on and said something unusually simple: "Look outside." His voice was edged in awe. We were lost in the haze—but a good kind of lost, and the best kind of haze. As we made our way up the Hudson, along that magnificent approach that takes you up the island of Manhattan, the city was a sea of iridescence, its lights diffused in murky mist. Space formed, vacillated, then dissolved. Buildings, shiny and hard, loomed out of the fog, then disappeared into shimmering darkness. I consider myself a connoisseur of New York City landings, and this was one of the most... More >>>