Bridges

Day 16 #rogertorypetersoninstitute Bridges on a trail are like pampering for your soul. If the bridge wasn’t there you could probably continue on the trail with a bit of effort and most likely a wet foot or two, but a bridge says “rest a bit and take a moment, let me pamper you”.
Daily walking the trails at the Roger Tory Peterson Institute, started me thinking about the woods I used to play in as a kid. I wonder if the tiny trail that I followed daily, still exists. Does the small glass jar still hold the twenty seven cents that we buried after having a homemade carnival? Are the trails that I lined with fallen limbs and swept clean with my Moms new broom still there? Mostly, I wonder about the bridge. The bridge was very short in length and made with scrap lumber, laid across two six foot stringers. It lifted it’s traveler far enough over the stony creek that you could stop, sit on it’s deck and dangle your feet over the crystal clear spring water. Usually it was a sleepy little stream with water finding its way around and over flat stones with lacy edges, but after a heavy rain, the air smelled fresh and the deck was dangerously slippery as it led you over the rushing stream that seemed to be in such a hurry. On those days, I would make boats out of sticks and drop them in the water from the bridge, watching them disappear on their way to the ocean...

“Bridges” Watercolor, 10”x8” Available
Unframed $350
Framed $425

---