Looking north, pre-dawn, when only the mist is the light of Central Park, it’s like a land that hasn’t yet been discovered — there’s jungle there.
And indeed, there’s jungle, round that jungle — ring, on ring; adventure — rang.
But when the mist seeps into the cleft of the forest parks, fog runs the channels of the early morning — there is stillness that stifles the other mechanical squawks and roars.
Beneath the canopy, you can see the cars moving, with their lights on — like army ants in the emerging dark.
From the look-out, seeing north, that’s what you can see.
SAVORING THE CITY | NYC