Growing up, my extended family was spread across the southern United States. Every summer, my parents would load my brothers and me in the car to visit these far-flung relatives. We would be gone for weeks at a time, driving hundreds of miles across the American south. At times, it seemed like I had been in the car for an interminable amount of time. However, on the drive back to Atlanta, there was always one clear clue that announced that I was nearly home: the Atlanta skyline.
Full of office buildings, hotels and sports facilities, the Atlanta skyline is a study in change. The skyline has grown as the city has expanded. Few of its earliest markers, symbols of the city’s future as a metropolitan center, still stand. Those that have remained are now dwarfed by newer, more modern edifices. Whether returning from a weeks-long vacation or a mere day trip, spotting the Atlanta skyline meant that I was nearly home.
Over the years, skylines have held great significance in my traveling. They have been both a marker and a memory, an identification point and a connection to a favorite trip. Yet, despite their seemingly simple description, skylines can come in many forms.
Glowing in the desert of Nevada is the Las Vegas strip. Encompassing a mere four miles, this stretch of highway appears to be lined in neon lights. From the air, only a few points are discernible. It seems to be just a contrasting mixture of bright pinks, fluorescent greens and glowing yellows. From the ground, the sight is no less confusing. A mock Eiffel Tower, an imitation Sphinx and a grand pirate ship all share this congested highway. This collection of buildings and signage is as much a part of the city’s lore as the casinos that have lined this highway for decades.
An even more iconic skyline is that of New York City. Towers of steel, concrete and glass crowd this tiny island. Buildings of all styles, each seemingly taller than the other, have a place in even the seemingly tiniest of spaces. From my first trip to this city, I have been in awe of New York’s skyline.
Though, not every skyline has to be lined with multi-story buildings or fluorescent lights. Sometimes, the simplicity of a horizon can be a marker in and of itself. The southern rim of the Grand Canyon does not feature any far-reaching skyscrapers. Its rocky cliffs and dense forests do not have man-made lighting. The rim could in no way be described as being modern. Yet, it remains one of the most beautiful skylines I have ever seen.
Is it the modernity that makes a skyline memorable? Or is it the simplicity? What is it, exactly, that makes a skyline remarkable? There really is no clear answer for these questions. For me, it is the memory itself. The connection to a favorite trip. The identification point it provides. The skyline, in short, is many things.
Full of office buildings, hotels and sports facilities, the Atlanta skyline is a study in change. The skyline has grown as the city has expanded. Few of its earliest markers, symbols of the city’s future as a metropolitan center, still stand. Those that have remained are now dwarfed by newer, more modern edifices. Whether returning from a weeks-long vacation or a mere day trip, spotting the Atlanta skyline meant that I was nearly home.
Over the years, skylines have held great significance in my traveling. They have been both a marker and a memory, an identification point and a connection to a favorite trip. Yet, despite their seemingly simple description, skylines can come in many forms.
Glowing in the desert of Nevada is the Las Vegas strip. Encompassing a mere four miles, this stretch of highway appears to be lined in neon lights. From the air, only a few points are discernible. It seems to be just a contrasting mixture of bright pinks, fluorescent greens and glowing yellows. From the ground, the sight is no less confusing. A mock Eiffel Tower, an imitation Sphinx and a grand pirate ship all share this congested highway. This collection of buildings and signage is as much a part of the city’s lore as the casinos that have lined this highway for decades.
An even more iconic skyline is that of New York City. Towers of steel, concrete and glass crowd this tiny island. Buildings of all styles, each seemingly taller than the other, have a place in even the seemingly tiniest of spaces. From my first trip to this city, I have been in awe of New York’s skyline.
Though, not every skyline has to be lined with multi-story buildings or fluorescent lights. Sometimes, the simplicity of a horizon can be a marker in and of itself. The southern rim of the Grand Canyon does not feature any far-reaching skyscrapers. Its rocky cliffs and dense forests do not have man-made lighting. The rim could in no way be described as being modern. Yet, it remains one of the most beautiful skylines I have ever seen.
Is it the modernity that makes a skyline memorable? Or is it the simplicity? What is it, exactly, that makes a skyline remarkable? There really is no clear answer for these questions. For me, it is the memory itself. The connection to a favorite trip. The identification point it provides. The skyline, in short, is many things.
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