From the observation deck on the Top of the Rock in Rockefeller Center the city of New York with its splendid skyscrapers, its maze of myriad streets and neighborhoods, its miracles of bridges, spreads out all around you. Up in the air at the tops of the buildings comes the sounds of carhorns, the flash of blinking arcades, the millions of mingled noises and movements that make up this tapestry of life. As the light of day fades, the electric lights in the countless apartments and offices snap on. You look down and and in one window you see a man in a suit embracing a woman in a red dress; in another, a cleaning lady emptying a waste basket; in still another, someone sitting at a desk drinking coffee, reading a newspaper. Down the street an old lady climbs the worn steps of St. Patrick's. A young couple sit on a bench in a park, throwing bread crumbs to the pigeons. A man in a jacket walks out of a corner deli with a loaf of Italian bread under his arm.

On the bridges, the frustrated commuters sit in bumper to bumper traffic, listening to their car radios. Across the river, the floodlights of Yankee Stadium come on. Out in the harbor, a cruise ship heads out to sea. A tourist standing next to you asks you to take her picture in front of the railing overlooking Central Park. A balloon from a penthouse birthday party drifts by.

Here, it seems that the entire human race can be seen in its greatest endeavors and its smallest moments, its triumphs and its tragedies. Everything from the spires of St. Patrick's Cathedral to the cemeteries of Brooklyn.

And everything in between.