A Million Tiny Anchors

I spent an hour tonight trying to find my keys, only to realize they were in my coat pocket the whole time. It is funny how we look for things in the distance when they are sitting right against us. Standing by my window, I watched the streetlights flicker on one by one. From up here, the city looks like a circuit board, humming with a life that feels both frantic and perfectly still. It is easy to feel small when you look at all those glowing windows, each one hiding a dinner being cooked or a book being read. We are all just dots in a vast, electric web, tethered to our own little corners of the world. Sometimes, I wonder if we are more connected by our shared silence than by the noise we make. Does the scale of a place make you feel more lonely, or does it make you feel like you are finally part of something larger than yourself?

Rodrigo Luft has captured this feeling beautifully in his image titled From the Top of the Rock. It reminds me that even in a place as big as New York, every light represents a story. What does a view like this stir up in you?