Saturday, May 2, 2015
In the eye of the sun
The current version of my river walk is a great improvement on all my previous routes. I now leave the river road and its well traveled paths, descend roughly 200 stairs (passing, twice in a row now, an Indian man in orange Syracuse University sportswear who likes to walk with his eyes closed) until I am on a quiet, spacious path skirting the edge of the Mississippi River. It is a secret world down there of geese, brilliant graffiti, and strangely appealing city drains, tunnels and sewers. It is an underbridge land of trolls and walking trees and trickling cliffs. Walk through the river paths and you thread the needle of the city, floating through its mystical heart. Like all things that are slightly too good to be true it is prone to be forgotten. I forgot it. I just remembered it again.
What a thing to stand alone in a paradise, in a magic looking glass of the sun, on the banks of a legendary river, and see two bridges, high up, full of cars in construction traffic, all lost souls in line with some demonic plan.
My exalted superiority is temporary. I'm on my way to my car too. I'll join them soon enough, but for now, the whole city is mine alone...