It is the great disappearing act and it occurs several times each year. It is one that would make Houdini proud.
I
woke up this morning to find New York City had vanished. From my
vantage point high above the banks of the Hudson, on the New Jersey side
of the great grey bridge, I peered out into a white haze. No cars on
the West Side Highway, no Grant's Tomb, no skyline of stunning majesty,
no Statue of the Lady (as my son denominated it in his earliest days).
When
the fog descends, it is as though the last several hundred years have
been but mirage and what I understood lay on the other side of the river
was mere fantasy. Later, there will be a rebirth, first in faint
outlines and then in all its glory. But for a brief moment, New York
City is no more.
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