Guam looks great alright but what's that thing that looks like cloth hanging on the tower? Anyway, if you can see a mile in New York it's an exceptionally clear day. When I lived up north in the highest part of Union my kitchen window faced east so every morning if it wasn't raining I would greet the sunrise over Newark and Manhattan. That is at least an hour or so after the sun rose above the horizon, it still had a couple thousand feet to go before rising above the nearly impenetrable soup. The morning flight into Newark from San Juan would come in on a normal glide slope, then as it approached the airport would bounce a few times as the pilot adjusted for a steeper angle, finally it punched a hole and disappeared into the Stygian darkness under a brightly lit sky. If the lower level of the atmosphere above the city were any thicker the planes would crash on impact.

Now that I live about 40 miles to the south on the shoreline I have a different perspective, a little less dramatic but a considerably wider view. Standing on the beach looking to my right (south) I can see mile after mile after mile of clear blue sky and ahead to the east out to sea there are all these little dots, pleasure craft and on the horizon the longer dashes that barely move, large ships going to and from the Port of New York and surrounds. Looking to my left is another story altogether, the shoreline disappears into what looks like someone having taken a piece of charcoal and smeared the horizon for miles out to sea. Ships coming and going have reinforced bows like ice breakers to penetrate the barrier. Occasionally I hear a bang and the scream of tortured metal when a captain doesn't adjust the angle of approach and scrapes sideways like the Titanic did the iceberg.

"Rain goes to the north and south, but usually misses us in the middle."
And for good reason, storms are deflected by the dome too so some bounce north, some bounce south, and some bigger ones split down the middle. You still live close enough for them to miss you, they hit hard and deflect at a wide angle. When it rains in New York it's always accompanied by lightning punching holes allowing the rain to come through. You know that storms in the area have more than their share of lightning and that's why. Now you know, when you live under the dome all you can see is up but from my perspective outside and at a distance I can see them hammering their way in, some even use a chisel.

I'm sure you've heard them say it never rains in southern California. Same thing, bigger dome. Los Angeles County is in a bowl surrounded by hills so the soup collects in it and being thicker than normal air prevents storms from entering the bowl. They slide in off the Pacific, deflect up the hills and keep right on sliding over the valley like a bowl of fruit salad sealed with Saran Wrap. That's why they call it La La Land, FRUIT SALAD you dope!

Then there is Da Bowl, channel 6 where NOTHING penetrates...........

Parts of this story are true, the rest has been changed to protect the innocent. (Cue Dragnet theme.)