October 30, 2009. In Riverdale, looking across the expansive green of Van Cortlandt Park, beyond the trees on the horizon, stands a gaggle of cranes, construction cranes, as if in conversation. They stand straight and tall, and near to each other. I wonder if they discuss how much they lift, or how high, or if they are excited about what they are helping to build. A nest they won’t live in. These are their downtown cousins, fewer in number, and more focused on their tasks. They’ve grown accustomed to the people at their feet, pouring out of the Path Station and the subways. Are they equally at home with the giant buildings towering over them?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
A CLUTCH OF CRANES
October 30, 2009. In Riverdale, looking across the expansive green of Van Cortlandt Park, beyond the trees on the horizon, stands a gaggle of cranes, construction cranes, as if in conversation. They stand straight and tall, and near to each other. I wonder if they discuss how much they lift, or how high, or if they are excited about what they are helping to build. A nest they won’t live in. These are their downtown cousins, fewer in number, and more focused on their tasks. They’ve grown accustomed to the people at their feet, pouring out of the Path Station and the subways. Are they equally at home with the giant buildings towering over them?
