Wild morning

Dodging rain spritzes for a morning warm-up walk, getting inside in time to watch the skies dump furiously; after lunch, the neighborhood sparkled after a hard "warshing." It constitutes "wild" for very old people, especially if a blustery wind chime flinging wind is thrown in. Had to convince my mom she didn't need a coat, since it was almost 70 degrees, just very windy. She worked up a sweat on our long rounds, and marveled at the clearness of the air.
Late evening walk with spouse, down to Lake Union where the setting sun was igniting the skyscraper windows at the south end of the lake. Small sailboats glided across the illuminated stretches of water.
I came across a short paragraph about a distant view of buildings in one of the Edward Abbey selections in his Best Of book. He's describing a ferry ride to Manahattan from Hoboken, New Jersey, on the long defunct Erie-Lackawanna line:
"It was strange, that approach to Manhattan, over the open water. No sound but the slap of waves, the wind, the gulls, the distant signals of other boats. The city itself swung slowly toward us silent as a dream. No sign of life but puffs of steam from skyscraper chimneys, the motion of the traffic. The mighty towers stood like tombstones in a graveyard, leaning against the sky, and waiting for - what? Someday we'll know."
This was probably written in the late 60's. He had held forth earlier on how he thought New York City was dying, but that it would take a long time to do it. He's not around these days to make more pointed observations about this process, which is affecting much more than one city.