I'm normally not one to stray off of the marked path, but when I saw this abandoned bridge at the end of a blocked-off side-street, I knew I had to get closer. I hopped over the barrier and walked past some old clothes strewn on the ground alongside an aging boombox (whose batteries had run out years ago from the look of it). Weeds were peeking out of the multitude of cracks in the asphalt and a flock of birds were flying overhead. I walked through the bridge, and found that on the other side was a cliff that dropped off about 20 feet to the parking lot below.
It felt as if I had found a small, quiet, self-contained world in the midst of the city's chaos. As I took pictures of the bridge set against the towers of the Atlanta skyline, a couple of the birds stayed around to be photographed. Then I walked back down the cracked asphalt, hopped over the barrier, and entered back into the buzz of the city.