Word: spiring
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...high-decibel delirium is "Timecapsule One" of a weekly Friday-night event billed as "NASA" (Nocturnal Audio and Sensory Awakening), an all-night techno "rave" that culminates with breakfast and bungee jumping from a Hudson River pier as the sun's first rays warm the spire of the Empire State Building...
With Olympic-era Barcelona featuring such sleek modernist architects as Richard Meier and Arata Isozaki, the Sagrada Familia, now 40% complete, may be maligned by some as an old-fashioned ugly duckling. But its admirers have faith that it will yet grow into a swan. Eventually, its central spire will climax in a gold cross reaching at least 170 meters toward the sky, making it Europe's tallest church. At the current construction rate, that will not happen until the 21st century. But as Gaudi once said, pointing heavenward, "My client isn't in any hurry...
...years. The white pulpy fiber scatters in a plume beside him, and in 90 seconds, 4 ft. of searing steel have ripped through the thick bark, the thin film of living tissue and the growth rings spanning ages. With an excruciating groan, all 190 ft. of trunk and green spire crash to earth. When the cloud of detritus and needles settles, the ancient forest of the Pacific Northwest has retreated one more step. Tree by tree, acre by acre, it falls, and with it vanishes the habitat of innumerable creatures. None among these creatures is more vulnerable than the northern...
...large Chinese statues that sit high up in the center of the cafe. Prices today are appalling: a Coca-Cola costs $5, a Bloody Mary $10. But as one sits on the eastern terrace of the Deux Magots in a spring sunset, looking out toward the medieval church spire across a newly installed array of lilacs, tulips and apple trees all in flower, one can hardly help feeling that such a vista is worth almost any price...
Halfway up the hill, by the Shawmut Bank (whose digital clock was still an hour off, several weeks after the daylight savings switch) he stopped to rest and smoke a cigarette, forcing me to nonchalantly wander off on my own. Sunset was coming on and the white spire of the town hall was catching a flood of orange light. Behind the building was a cemetery, rolling away in a stretch of trees and headstones three, four or five times the area covered by the Atlantic Market...