Over the years, from waiting at the bus station, I’ve become extremely familiar with
this view of the northeast part of New Jersey and what lies beyond the George
Washington Bridge: the Big Apple. Yet two weeks ago, I was struck by how it can
seem so different to the camera eye: the stripes moving into the distance, the upward movement of the ground, the cloud mass.
This sudden sense taught me not to take for granted
an engineering miracle that, especially when originally built, in 1931—and even
today—was extraordinary.
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