The View from Here

Took the metro to the wrong stop yesterday and decided to walk the long way home. Turns out that this bridge eventually leads to the street where my pool is, which is also the southern border of the woods near my house and the one I used to always confuse with the street I actually live on. (One is bol'shaya, one is malaya.) We once tried to walk this way back in January or February, but it was too cold, and I chickened out. This time, the weather was more accommodating, and I watched some dogs frolicking on a patch of grass and listened to The Microphones as I walked.

The stop where I got off is a strange forest of unfinished high-rises on the edge of the river. It's built in a way that a pedestrian would have no idea which direction the river actually was, as the raised highways, overpasses, and tall glass steles tend to throw off one's sense of direction. All you get is a view of one's immediate block, no views through of any kind. A strange, urban claustrophobia.* I used one of the seven sisters poking out above the fray and the highway signs as orienters, but still ended up taking the wrong bridge across. Reminded me of the view from the Queensboro Bridge, though the apartments (would we call them projects?) seemed a lot cheerier. Also, to my great relief, despite all the urban/industrial impedimenta, there was always a sidewalk, an overpass, or a zebra crossing along the whole way home.

*This was before I finally found the bridge in the pictures.