Friday, January 11, 2019


At least we know for certain that we are three old sinners, 
That this journey is much too long, that we want our dinners, 
And miss our wives, our books, our dogs, 
But have only the vaguest idea why we are what we are. 
To discover how to be human now Is the reason we follow this Star."
—W. H. Auden, "For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio”

From the office, as I end my day, or rather, hunker down for one more pass, I catch a glimpse of the mid-winter sunset—an orange and yellow tinge steadily hemming the fringes of an aquamarine sky stubbornly eking just past five pm now that it's post-Christmas.

The rippling (freezing) waters of the Hudson ripple a magnetic blue. The lights of Jersey City and Hoboken shine cheerfully, without the tint of claustrophobia from the Manhattan skyscrapers. Here, at the edge of the island, the night seems a little more voluminous, and the air is less crowded. The twilight blue trailing in after sunset is a blue that you can breathe in.

Small tugboats and ferries chug from the busy piers across the Hudson. Planes streak through the yellow underbelly of the horizon, vanishing up into the darkness of soon-to-be night.

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