I've been thinking about bridges a lot lately. It started on my recent drive to Georgia and back. Crossing the Mississippi River is unavoidable driving to Georgia, and it's always felt like an important and joyful part of traveling to and from my former home, to and from my present home.
On this recent trip, maybe for the first time--because I noticed it--I felt fear. I clutched the steering wheel and didn't allow myself to look to either side, kept my eyes focused on the road ahead.
I may have felt fear when almost ten years ago, I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge in a Mini Cooper--at night--to find a place to stay in San Francisco. But I don't remember feeling a sense of panic as I did leaving Natchez heading west.
That West Coast trip coincided with my 65th birthday--an age which seems incredibly young as I begin my 75th year. Maybe my sense of adventure and freedom was less jaded than it is today? Maybe age has taken a bit of a toll on my confidence?
At any rate, my thoughts lately have not been so much about actual physical bridges but about less tangible but powerful connections between ways of thinking and seeing the world.
I plan to spend the next couple of blog posts reflecting on some of the bridges I'm discovering.
No comments:
Post a Comment