8/28/2000 0 Comments
There’s no smell to New York here, and that’s a good thing – when you can smell New York you don’t want to – but there’s plenty of weather. I look back at Downtown and the clouds are low enough to cover the tops of most of the buildings there, and I start to wonder if this is a brilliant idea, and the wind is picking up off the East River too, blowing everyone around. But what the hell – if I get wet I get wet.
There’s noise here too – noise from the rush hour traffic below – the cab horns, the omni-present sirens, the trucks, the noise that is New York. And there’s noise above too – the weather is pushing the helicopters lower, closer to the plebs at ground level than usual. Plus there are weather choppers and traffic choppers reporting back to their stations – Americans are obsessed with knowing how long it will take to get somewhere, and what the weather will be like when they finally do. And I realise I’d forgotten how loud it is to live here – you tend to blot it out eventually, like those people who live near airports but no longer hear the planes. Continue
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