… or make that ‘tries, as in gantries. They grow in Brooklyn and elsewhere ships get loaded, offloaded, and serviced. They exude sculptural magic.

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They tango,

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doe-see-doe,  twirl in synch or opposition, form shifting alliances,

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all on trains’ feet.

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Verging on extinction,

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they demand our notice.

That celebrated but transitory spruce that does a six-week stand in Manhattan gets attention with its magic, but how about a glance at these that’ve been rooted here for decades. The Manhattan tradition stems (pun intended) from a construction site act; maybe these could spawn a tradition in Brooklyn–and everywhere else this species grows. And the difference between the tree in Rockefeller Center and these above: Manhattan v. Brooklyn?  sugar and salt? youthful and adult? innocence and experience, delicate and strong?

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