Saturday, April 25, 2009

One Lane Bridge/Why The Country Surpasses City Every Time

After the egg making M. and I went on a walk. We donned hats from her mother's hat drawer to fend off the windy air and walked down a very steep hill with one goal: to take photographs of the nearby old school bridge.
There was plenty of open space, spectacularly well kept stone barns and even the occasional hay bundle.
The bridge.

M. says that this little sign is an attempt to keep rapskallion (how do you spell that word?) teenagers from using the area underneath the bridge for nefarious purposes (re: sex, drugs and apathy).





We took a small detour on the way back and walked on a path that, if I remember M.'s words correctly, had once been a rail road track.
Or perhaps it used to be the ocean?

1 comment:

nc catherine said...

Awesome. I love the rock. There are spiny outcroppings pitted like this in the hillside behind cousin Renny's, sort of along the way to Dry Cave. Looks exactly like hte ocean floor. So cool. One autumn day hiking there I sort of expected a prehistoric fish thing to wander by, out of water of course.