It's a lovely spot where we can engage in the waterfowling hunting ritual -- building blinds, setting out decoys, honing our duck-calling skills -- and occasionally bring home a meal or two.
Secluded in private apartments, unmarked buildings, blind alleys and underground caverns, a host of hidden new hangouts has sprung up in the City of Light's shadows, creating a vogue for stealth addresses and a corresponding surge in confounded pacing, desperately unfolded maps and requests for directions.
So when loud concerns were raised that light that refracted off the angular, metal-sheathed building might blind motorists and cause accidents on the adjacent Washington Avenue Bridge, sunglasses were handed out at the museum's opening.
I remembered the morning the sun rose from behind the buildings and blinded our eyes.
A youth group wanted help avoiding eviction from their building and a blind woman just wanted to be reassured that everything would be all right.
He satirized Hegelian rationalism as a perfect example of "the academic in philosophy"—of detached, objective, abstract theorizing and system building that was blind to the realities of human existence and to its subjective, living, emotional character.
When he was finished, he climbed carefully down the seventeen steps in front of the building, where the blind man stood talking about his journey through the desert, and made his way across the street to his apartment.
There's a touch of Auntie Mame in him, a "live, live, live" sensibility that he imposes on the more passive Midge, a nearly blind building superintendent who only wants to hold on to his job.
