My first morning on the bridge

New York had lived in my imagination for years, but the bridge was the first place that made the trip feel real. I woke before my alarm, followed the quiet streets toward the river, and reached the wooden walkway just as the morning light found Manhattan.

I asked for one photograph before the city became busy. I love it because it does not feel like proof that I visited a landmark. It feels like the exact minute I understood I had finally arrived.