A dark sky instead of the top of the tunnel and the muggy air at the Metro station becomes a fresh breeze in this perennial night.
NY City – The Queensboro bridge in the afternoon. When approaching the bridge it almost seems impossible to pass through that steely forest. Once onto I felt like being in a thick branched wood, made of very tidy branches.
[…] if you move along Marozia’s compact walls, when you least expect it, you see a crack open and a different city appear. Then, an instant later, it has already vanished. Italo Calvino – Invisible cities
It happens, you walk alone on your way deeply swimming in the stream of your own thought. But raising your eyes you read a harmless sign and you suddenly would like to do the opposite.