The ground beneath my feet
I don’t know if I can trust the ground beneath my feet these days. So many times what seems like a perfectly normal road turns out to be part of a drawbridge. You’ll be walking in quiet contemplation when suddenly loud alarms will jolt you back to reality and two cylindrical beams - much like train crossing gates - will start coming down on both sides of the road. The road will then begin to rise to make room for a large boat or a small ship to pass.
The ground beneath my feet 1
When you are living on a patch of reclaimed land, you feel cut off each time a major road connecting you to the mainland behaves like this.
I recently saw a ship called Gandalf waiting for the bridge near Westerpark to open and wondered: if bridges could talk, would this one say “You shall not pass.” 
The ground beneath my feet 3