I boarded the ferry as the sun was setting. We
saw in front of us an infinite carpet of white
fog, and, above, a translucent sparkling mist and a sky
of royal blue. We broke through the fog at tremendous
speed and came upon open water. Then a shiver took
hold of me as I saw the city: a rampart
of buildings on a great narrow island, windows reflecting the
golden light, towers, bridges that stretched over the fog like
long doubled harps. The reflecting windows of a thousand buildings
were a leafy bronze color that crawled across gleaming facades.
Paraphrases from Ellis Island and Other Stories by Mark Helprin.