Bridging the East River

One of my daily duties (self-appointed, of course) as a Mexican-American Michigander and, more importantly, a Nouveau Brooklynite, is to monitor the goings-on of the Williamsburg Bridge.  It is the pride of the East River.  Well, my favorite bridge, anyways.   

Lately, I have noticed an increased police presence around the entryways onto the bridge.  Traffic entries.  A makeshift checkpoint set up on the north entrance of the bridge from the Williamsburg side (off the BQE), with no actual traffic stops.  Just a lot of milling around and looking very well put together in their navy ensembles.

Then a couple of nights ago, a rougue police car ventured onto the bridge.  And not just on the bridge, but on the pedestrian level of the bridge.  In their CAR.  I admit, I was mildly disturbed.  But then I saw what a lovely sense of festiveness the colored police lights added to its spraypainted mural backdrop and that welcoming shade of rosa mexicano.  I have to say, it really tied the bridge together.

¡Que belleza!