On 9/11, I inevitably think of people falling. I'd rather think of people not falling, but flying, and the closest we can get to that might be the flying trapeze.
That makes it a good day to take a break and walk alongside the upper High Line. There, among the urban chaos and abandonment of weedy lots and graffiti-splashed bricks, you will discover the big white tent that houses Trapeze School New York.
The door is open. Look inside. Step, for a moment, away from your daily life.
No one is falling here.