God, I love the city.
It's in the moment when- when you've been driving along, and the freeway's been hidden and self-contained for a few minutes, sunk down between two ridges or behind a long stretch of houses or trees or a sound barrier- and you suddenly crest a hill and downtown is right there, the skyscrapers so much closer than you'd realized, tall and dark and huge, slightly hazy in the humidity and the falling dusk, with every window blazing yellow and white against the denim blue of the sky, and suddenly, briefly, your heart hurts with love for all of it, the city and the buildings and the people and the sounds and the joy and the beauty of it all, and just... yes.
It's in the moment when- when you've been driving along, and the freeway's been hidden and self-contained for a few minutes, sunk down between two ridges or behind a long stretch of houses or trees or a sound barrier- and you suddenly crest a hill and downtown is right there, the skyscrapers so much closer than you'd realized, tall and dark and huge, slightly hazy in the humidity and the falling dusk, with every window blazing yellow and white against the denim blue of the sky, and suddenly, briefly, your heart hurts with love for all of it, the city and the buildings and the people and the sounds and the joy and the beauty of it all, and just... yes.