Canyons

Yesterday's news was full of reports about the ticker tape victory parade up Broadway for the New York Giants. It was the first time I'd heard Broadway referred to by the nickname "Canyon of Heroes." The word "canyon," applied to a Manhattan street, is interesting, because the impression I had the first time I walked these city streets was certainly reminiscent of walking in a deep crevasse, with high walls enclosing me on either side. It's a mildly claustrophobic feeling I still get to this day, particularly on clear and sunny days, when you can walk around most of the day without feeling direct sunlight. The skyline seen from the Manhattan Bridge, driving from Brooklyn to Manhattan, has a similarly geological resemblance to a natural landscape. As you look uptown from the Manhattan side of the span, the buildings grow taller and taller, creating the illusion of a mountainscape, with smaller foothills giving way to taller mountains in the further distance. What testament to the monumental size of these giant works created by humans, that they can mimic the works of nature by their sheer scale.