Day 4: A month or so ago, a friend was exploring one of those roads that go nowhere and discovered at its end this quaint old bridge. Today, following in his tracks, I paid it a visit, puzzled at myself for having neglected to do so at any time over the course of more than two decades. The scene begged to be converted into an impressionistic painting with its magical light and touch of autumn color, so I ask my readers' forgiveness for posting two "artworks" back to back.
Isn't a bridge no long used a path of sadness? Of dreams gone awry? Yours is moving photo. Thanks.
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