Walked across to Brooklyn, and then back to Manhattan.

Watched the sun set, then watched as the lights of New York City began to twinkle.

There was history in every direction.

Tourists and locals walked together. If you stood still long enough, you could lose count of the different languages going by.

This bridge holds so many stories… it’s almost magic how they wash over you in waves as you cross.

I paid attention to young boys on their bicycles and little girls on scooters. Too young to remember the faces of the people who walked that bridge on 9/11 to escape the city.

I think the bridge remembers.