A city where towering skyscrapers stand atop shorter towering skyscrapers, where the wails of ambulances are a lullaby in the night, where traffic jams and honking horns serve as background music, and where the risk of crossing the street is as sharp as disarming a hotwired explosive. Concrete facing concrete feeds this metropolitan maze from daybreak till nightfall, well, that, and an immense source of electricity burning through every inhabitant window. The streets pulse with life at all hours, the people migrate from one corner of the city to the other with purposeful strides, the scent of food, car fumes and the occasional anonymous urine lingers in the air, and the night sky is foggy with unclear grayness. A careful count of the stars one night in New York added up to an astounding number…four. But out of all the moving sights witnessed, which wasn’t all the city had to offer I can assure, not watching the sunset was one of my favorites. Let me clarify. I was not facing the sun as it was setting on this clear sunny day, I was however paying careful attention as the bright shining colors of red and orange reflected off of the soaring structures. A view from the outside granted an appreciative sight of the tall and sleek buildings and the burning colors of sunset glistening off the windows. Shades of pink dimmed slowly, melting away from the edifices, announcing the arrival of night. A close second to this memorable recollection, was the sight of a dog turning the street into a convenient latrine, probably because of the near rarity of finding a single patch of grass (unless you’re close to a church or in Central Park).
All in all? A surprisingly beautiful city with a certain je ne sais quoi to it, apart from the suffocating claustrophobia of crowded restaurants, bars, elevators, stores, etc.; the clogging excess of cars; and the nail-biting taxi rides that can serve as worthy opponents to Nascar drivers.