You know those child memories you have? Particular pictures in your brain that flash back to more innocent times? Today was the first time I've written the new B train home. It was lovely walking to the West 4th train station again to head home... foreign yet familiar at the same time. I haven't gone that route for years... since the MTA decided I needed a change of pace.
The B train travels over the Manhattan Bridge, like my old D train did. I grew up taking that D train into the city... getting on at Kings Highway when I was young, making the trek into NYC and over the bridge onto 6th avenue.
Well, tonight, I looked up from my book, and saw the Brooklyn Bridge in the moonlight... glimpes of its brickwork through the grey-blue girders of the Manhattan Bridge. The lights from the South Street Seaport. The view of the Brooklyn coast line. The shimmering of the dark water underneath the bridge.
I forgot how beautiful that picture is. I forgot how much of a joy commuting from Manhattan to Brooklyn is, because of that particular picturesque view. Staring at the Brooklyn Bridge from the side, seeing its entire span in one panoramic display.
I felt like a kid again. I smiled.