Crumbling towers and beams of yellow light" - G. Summers
I've been putting it off for months; yesterday I finally walked around the cordon around the CBD. It was a beautiful day.
I spent most of the walk looking, the sights were awesome, but not in a good way.
I also did a lot of not walking. I spent a lot of time clinging to the wire mesh fence, hanging off it, and crying.
There are still people out there taking photographs. I don't need to; I will never ever forget how the city looked. Bikes still padlocked to bike stands. Office chairs in the middle of the street, once covered in snow, once confined to an office, waiting for someone to sit on them. Grass growing through untravelled pavement. Graffiti confirming a building is clear of occupants. Pigeons and stray cats crossing the barricades at will, while we humans respect the authority the fences bring; we are a species that recognises boundaries. Two bored soldiers in camoflage and hi-visibility jackets, guarding a gate. A ruined city; crumbling towers; beams of yellow light. The appearance is secondary, the feelings evoked are the memory. This is where it happened.
What I find most difficult is remembering what is gone, what used to be there.