Now this is compression. One could almost reach up and touch the vibrating belly of the expressway. The Lachine canal bike path snakes underneath, its faded asphalt slicing through rough gravel whose granular surface has been marked by mountain bike deviants. The late afternoon sun is low enough to penetrate the gap and casts deep, warm shadows across the little stones that are shaded by the overpass for most of the day. Open city sky beyond.