By the riverside...

The first few lines in the movie V for Vendetta go something like this:

"Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget."

Yesterday, I sat quietly by the chilly waterfront of River Schuylkill staring at the lights that did their little dance and at the concrete that rose sharply into the sky. There it was, my favorite bridge, the poor, hagged one heaving its last sighs before it collapsed any second; there is something so morose yet beautiful about that bridge as it rises above the dark waters and starkly contrasts the grandeur of the 30th Street Station. Yup, sometimes sad is beautiful.

There must have been many people who crossed the same bridge and sat where I did, who felt and absorbed all that I did. So many people of different colors, religions, races, ages over the course of so many decades. And they all just perished. Yet, the buildings remain standing, the bridge, the concrete...The river remains but the waters keep flowing...Ideas remain but their torchbearers keep changing...