I stop for cranes.
In my defence, so does Knausgaard:
There were few things I found more beautiful than cranes, the skeletal nature of their construction, the steel wires running along the top and bottom of the protruding arm, the enormous hook, the way heavy objects dangled when being slowly transported through the air, the sky that formed a backdrop to this mechanical provisorium.
And, with apologies, so did Sibelius in the Kuolema andante.
Cranes with cement payloads stop me on the Oliverbahn.
They stop me because skyships are worth stopping for.
On Monday, the crane atop the Stantec Tower starts to come down. Necks will crane up.
While contemplating things above, these words, to the tune of The Lord's Prayer, came to mind. Sure, it creaks. It is a tribute to those who build.
That art in heaven
Yellow'd be thy crane
Thou hauled up tonnes
Now will be undone
And brought to earth sometime around March 11th.
Gift us that day a view of YEG
That puts the proper emphasis*
On those who plan trusses to support us:
They lead us not into gravitation
But deliver us to the next level.
*pronounced emPHAsis, like tressPAsses. Like I said, it creaks.