We walk tentatively through Pandemic Alley, not knowing what it is or where it leads. It is not well marked. It could be a dead end. Or, it could be a shortcut to the place we want to be.
That place will be so open, clean, and sanitary. There will be fresh air, water, and sunlight. There will be wide open spaces to sit with friends and family, enjoying the moment. There may even be storefronts where you can shop or buy something to eat. As a landscape architecture lover, places like these in big cities always enthused me most.
The sides of the alley rise high, and make it difficult to exit. It is time to escape, and we know how to run and how to climb. Still, we fear the shadows in the alley. Do not fear the shadows. Because without light, there would be no shadow. There is light at the end of the alley.
These are my thoughts this week. In today’s video, another in my Gumshoe Opera series of detective, film noir, and mystery soundtracks, I try to evoke a musical atmosphere of shadowy alleyways. A jazzy backlight creates the setting for light and dark, tension and release, the equivalent of sirens, echoey footsteps, and cat shrieks.
Once, I took the downtown Seattle underground tour. Down by the waterfront, new buildings stood over the foundations of old brick and mortar. They paved over streets, but left behind passageways beneath the city blocks. (I included those photos, so see how old Seattle used to look.) In the future, societies will build over today’s Pandemic Alley, and learn from the passageways left behind.