Search This Blog

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Bridge



What sends you over?
What crosses the gap? 
What appliance comes from the dentist?




Who first thought to build a bridge? Did they need to replace some rotting logs so that they could get to the other side for food?  Did they need to make the logs wide and smooth enough so that they could drag stuff across? Was it a necessity or just because somebody thought they needed to build something beautiful and strong, better than simple logs that continuously rotted and collapsed. Did they need the mental exercise needed for the engineering of the  construction or was it just that man always thinks there's something better?


Take a good look at a bridge the next time you are near one.


Sit and stare. 

Dream. 

Does it signify more than connecting the two sides of a rushing river or yawning canyon? Is the structure an example of the strength of man. The endurance and stamina needed to hold on during the fiercest of storms and winds.

 The winter can throw as much sleet, ice and snow at one of these iron structures and they can remain. A tornado can hit and the bridge will twist and bend, but not always will it release it's grip on each shore. Floods of angry water will stream through the iron beams and stringers and does not always wash the bridge away.

And then one day, the slightest of breezes or the metronome clopping of a horses' hooves can bring it crashing down!




Think about this for a minute:


"Bridge the Gap."  

How many times in our lives have we uttered this phrase and not once actually thought about a bridge? The word "gap" seems to describe a void or empty space and bridges hang over living water.  I suppose there's a space of air underneath, but in my mind's eye, I see air currents, leaves gently moving in the wind and bugs and gnats. Certainly not a space of emptiness?


"Bridging the generations." 

There is no gap between each generation. They flow one to the next. That phrase somehow does not seem to be the stuff that our society is constructed of: Rigid iron and cast. I cannot imagine cement, pig iron, heavy bolts and iron welds needed to connect me with my children.


"Water under the bridge." 

Ponder this phrase. Lean over a bridge and stare deeply into the water as it rushes under the structure of a bridge. Yes... Water goes under the bridge. But the phrase gives the impression that once it goes under, it's gone or lost or somehow not as good a thing as before it went under? Stare into the rushing waters that go under the bridge and then! Race on over to the other side and stare at what comes out the other side! Does it look different or not as watery? Is it of less importance in the flowing to the ocean thing than the stuff that went in the other side?




I spied these two chairs under this bridge. What a place! Imagine spending a few stolen hours listening to the babbling sounds and tinkle of the water. Imagine spending a few hours with a fine line dangling in the swirling waters with the expectations of fish for dinner? Just you, someone to share it with and this lovely hidden spot. Imagine!


A bridge. Just anywhere on a country road in Ontario.
What would you have found there?




All of these photos were again shot and loaded directly from my Nikon P90 and then posted without alteration of any kind.

6 comments:

Brian Miller said...

i love the old wood bridges the best...some pretty crasy stuff under teh bridge too...and some neat graffiti. smiles.

Everyday Goddess said...

My Italian friends said that the Brooklyn Bridge has a near cult following in Italy. It is one of their favorite American things.

great post!

Lori E said...

Our cabin is right beside a bridge over a river.
Until they built up the dike it was a bridge over troubled water when the river flooded a few years back.

Eva Gallant said...

Bridges are so amazing; I think about the wooden bridge over the river in my hometown growing up. It was a footbridge and you had to pay 2 pennies to cross it; then by contrast the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge!

ethelmaepotter! said...

I love bridges almost as much as barns.

My hometown of Tallassee, Alabama, once lay claim to the longest curved bridge in the world; I don't know if it still retains that title. As a child, I had nightmares about our car falling over the rail and into the river below...yet I was fascinated by the sinuous curve of the bridge.

Linda in New Mexico said...

Wow, I love the photography. Bridges are wonders of man. My husband does not like heights, which often times come with bridges, LOL. I have made him go with me to the Royal Gorge bridge in Colorado...I thought we would have to stay on the other side, but he closed his eyes and we got back to our side. The Golden Gate when we lived in SF was a contant mental battle for him. And finally a wooden bridge over a creek up in northern NM. But he says that's it. No more. I'm a baddy alright...we'll see if it is the last bridge.
(((hugs))) until next time.