September Evening on the Promenade
Katherine Knutsen
Perpetually in awe of this city…from the weathered
cobblestones beneath my feet to the cocky pigeons strutting down the
street, to the regal bridge on my right, mighty symbol of Brooklyn,
leading to the iconic concrete kingdom across the water. Home sweet
home. I can feel the humidity in the air this evening, thick as
molasses, coating my skin with beads of sweat. My sunglasses are a
blessing against the renegade sun, desperate to hold onto summer. I
shield my eyes and peer out at the cerulean sea, momentarily dazzled
by the light bouncing off of it. The faint smell of the ocean air is
comforting; I can almost taste the salty spray. Several helicopters pass
over the city, their unmistakable hum lasting even after they fade out
of sight.
I find myself smiling as a young family walks by, a cherubic
baby in the mother’s arms. His tiny, plump fingers point at the city
and he gurgles appreciatively. Both parents are laughing, and their
love is palpable. I watch the father snap a candid photograph of
mother and child, and it warms my heart. Further down the
promenade, I find an empty bench and decide to rest my weary feet.
I’m taken aback by how hot the seat is. The heat is certainly relentless.
Pushing a few wayward tendrils of my hair off my damp face, I lean
back and take in the splendor before me.
Soaring 1,776 feet into the air, poised to inject the sky with its
grand steel spire, the Freedom Tower still takes my breath away every
time I see it. It dominates the skyline, commanding respect while
simultaneously summoning warm tears to my eyes when I think of
what this great city has endured over the last fifteen years. Like a
phoenix rising from the collective pain and sorrow of our nation, this
resplendent tower is a sign of hope, of resilience, of true New York soul
and fierce American spirit. The afternoon is drawing to a close, and I
realize that it’s time to go. I linger for a moment, savoring the gentle
breeze as I gather my belongings. Slowly I rise, sling my heavy
backpack onto my shoulder, and turn towards the exit. A delightful
mix of spectators are descending onto the promenade, young and old,
all eagerly anticipating a beautiful sunset. I can’t help but turn back
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