Above the hallway leading to the platforms at the 42nd Street 5th Ave subway reads Goethe, "The unnatural, too, is natural." As one continues down the hall gold glass mosaic in the shape of tree roots break from the ceiling and cut through the glass tile stretching to reach bedrock, searching for water.
This particular evening a violinist plays Pacholbel's canon in D minor.
"The unnatural, too, is natural..." Everyday about 13 million gallons of water are pumped out of the subway tunnels. This is just the water that is already there. When it rains, the number can be twice or three times the amount. Once, before man pierced the sky with towers of stone, glass, and steel, before Pacholbel wrote his canon, Manhattan was 27 square miles of porous ground punctuated by living roots. The trees, plants, and streams (more than forty ) provided for an abundance of wildlife, all of which have been virtually extinguished in the quest to transform an island; to conquer nature.
But nature is patient.
At the end of the hallway stands a fantastic glass mosaic installation showing the victory of nature over this tunnel. In granite reads Jung, "Nature must not win the game, but she cannot lose."
Within 36 hours of the pumps stopping the entire subway system will fill with water. Nature will reclaim its ancient underground streams. Within 20 years, the steel columns that support the East Side Lexington Avenue line, by now rusted through from nature's relentless assault, will begin to buckle. The street will cave in. Lexington Ave will once again become a river.
Nature always wins the game.