September 27, 2021 - The Silent Part of the City
From my window I can see the silent part of the city. It’s colorless and most visible at dawn. The first time I noticed it was almost three weeks ago. It was early September and I stumbled out of my apartment and began walking down Ninth Avenue and since it was very early the avenue was very quiet. I did not look for the silent part of the city. It just made itself apparent to me when I glanced in the distance toward the Port Authority Bus Terminal.
This was early; so early that the sun was just coming up and as one of the busses was crossing the in-bound ramp toward the terminal, the look and feel of the silent part of the city came over me all in one instant. And I knew the feeling instantly, even if I had never felt the feeling before in my life. I write of seeing the silent part of the city and also of feeling the silent part of the city, really, because they are one in the same.
Seeing is closer to the actual physical description of what happens whenever I encounter the silent part of the city, but feeling is closer to the emotional context of what the silent part of the city allows into my experience. At first blush one would guess that this silent part of the city would be more visible at dusk and at night, rather than in the morning and at dawn. And for many years I thought the same, which is part of the reason why I never saw the silent part of the city before that morning now three weeks ago, in early September as I described.
Before that morning I thought the city’s skyline at night held the most secrets and could offer the most information about what it feels like to live in this city and constantly desire silence. I do not mean the night in the traditional sense when one means the nightlife of the city. That nightlife is far from quiet. What I’m talking about when I say the night of the city, which as I mentioned, I was mistaken in believing held the silent part of the city, are those moments that happen in the depth of the night ––– between 3am and 6am where everything is in transition; it’s not evening and it’s not morning.
Looking back it was reasonable for me to think that those hours were the hours that contained the silent part of the city. I do not blame myself for holding that belief. And I do not blame myself for holding that belief for as long as I did. It’s just that I was misguided. It’s just that when I spent so much time trying to speak to the silent part of the city during those non-night / non-morning hours, it’s no wonder that the city never offered the reply that I thought it would offer. I could not see into the dawn; I was looking far too closely at the night.
