In Russia they are arresting people in the hundreds for paying tribute to this man who was murdered. In the luxury of free New York I made my up to 91st Street after work to pay the minimal amount of respect with a bouquet of deli flowers. When I arrived the makeshift vigil was smaller than I expected. Maybe they clear it out every morning. There were just 4 or 5 people standing in front of the gate covered by flowers and candles and framed photographs. I held my flowers and stood there frozen in place. The air felt heavier than I expected. Suddenly gravity felt more powerful than ever and I was rooted in place by the moment. I expected more anger, more outrage, but instead there was a sadness. The man next to me was wiping his eyes of tears. A police car was parked nearby behind an iron gate. At one point they got out and illuminated a hand-drawn sign hanging on the fence and then asked "translation?" "Bring back his body," a young man called out. Then the cops got back in their car and it got quiet again. Finally I walked forward and placed my bouquet down. I thought to take a photo but didn't. It felt like an intrusion. A white card with black lettering quoted Navalny and accused his killer. There was no excuse for letting fear stop you from acting, it said. For the time I read his words he came alive again for me. Then, when I looked at his portrait the reality sunk in. Of a world where this could happen. The pedestrians and joggers changed their route when they saw what was there. Then a woman with a stroller walked purposefully past us and dropped a bunch of flowers heavily on the pile, almost in disgust. Then she stopped and stared at it for a moment until her baby made a noise and she moved on. A young woman, noticing that some candles had gone out grabbed a Bic lighter and lit them back up. Then she said something quietly before she left and I gave her a closed-mouth half smile in response. Then another man, who seemed very emotional placed his flowers down and was on his way. The man who had been rubbing tears away also left with his female companion. There should always be someone here, I thought to myself. At one point a light went on in the building behind closed blinds. A message? A signal? Then the light went off. I wanted to take a photo but I didn't. No one took any pictures. No one said anything. Gravity pressed down on me harder. I felt earthbound and mortal. Then I was on my way back into the stream of the world.