Bridges

As the sun rose this morning, I took a walk on another bridge — this one, the Bridge to Spring. I realize that I’m spending my days on the bridge, never going back toward Winter, but never really stepping off into Spring. The snow has melted and the ground is moist, but Winter still owns the night. It paints the just-green ground with crystals of frost rather than drops of dew.

But snap the photo quickly, because the day belongs to Spring!

At a time that only weeks ago belonged to the night — belonged to Winter — the hopeful Spring sky lit up like a rainbow and promised a day that would soon melt the frost.

As I stand on the bridge between Winter and Spring, I look toward the beauty that lies on each side, loving them both and savoring the time when both are in view at the same instant. Above, on a perch in the tallest tree, a red-tailed hawk sits — the guardian of the bridge. I stand directly beneath him, in the center of the universe, and his keen eye anticipates my decision. Which direction will I choose? In this place of not-quite-memory and not-quite-reality, I see once again the beauty of bridges. Sometimes a bridge is for crossing quickly and sometimes it is a nice place to linger. Today I will stand in the center of the bridge and savor the moment that soon will exist only in my dreams.

The Guardian

Tags:

Yesterday, a friend posted a comment on another friend’s blog about building bridges; and she said she thought she would go stand on a bridge as a way of making the thought tangible. Awesome! I just love bridges, so I thought I’d share a few words today about one of my favorite things. In fact, I think I’ll add a category for Bridges and give recognition to them as they occur along the way. I had a couple of pictures of bridges I could choose from, but I decoded to use this one. It was taken this morning on the quiet walk that I take before the demands of the day begin. In a sense, this time of day is my bridge from the rest of nighttime to the activity of my life.

I just love photos like this one, with the moon still hung in the night sky above the trees and the light of the rising sun just beginning to glow at the horizon. At moments like this, I stand on the bridge between darkness and light, between sleeping and waking, between yesterday and tomorrow. These are the moments when we stop and remember where we have been, acknowledge the rest and rejuvenation of a good night’s sleep, and then put on our shoes and step off on the other side of the bridge and walk forward to our future. There is something magical about the time we spend standing in the middle of a bridge. It is in this place, halfway between our history and what lies ahead, that we grow in wisdom from past experience, find our courage, and form the intention that will lead us to a new shore and a new day. Maybe this is why I love bridges so much — because they are such fine places for reflection, excitement, and decision. As I stood this morning, looking at the moon of yesterday and the glowing light of tomorrow, I could feel the bridge of the moment beneath my feet. It is in that moment, in the middle of the bridge, that a new day begins.

Tags:

Pamela Stead Jones

The Bridge to Spring

Bridge to Tomorrow

Current Moon Phase

Pages

Archives

Blogroll