01/30/2026
Onward
Balance and gravity pull at each others sleeves. They bicker like brothers forced to exist together. The breeze seems strong below the bridge. It's wooden planks ready to ride the wind. If only.
My eyes are blinded by the laser sun darting through the clouds. Adventure and stupidity lie together on a narrow line. A rusty cable on a weary bridge, time and the seasons the only constant. The earth pulls, but is it imagination? The wind howls stronger. All around now. Sideways swings the bridge as the misty morning river draws closer. Slow motion. The rust on those cables (the curious decisions we make) turn the intertwining steel to cold dust in the wind. In an instant my world spins into a storm of churning wooden planks and golden fall leaves at the mercy of the night. Night? When did the sun duck the horizon? When did my cautious step onto a rickety bridge turn the world upside down?
Slow becomes fast as I'm forced to react. The river below, once a peaceful meander reflecting the landscape is now frothing at the mouth, seeking victim. I get a glimpse of the other side of the bridge (or the parts and pieces that once were bridge). It's a chance. I can see it! I close my eyes, squeeze the dry tears ripped from my face by the relentless winds (gravity?). I force my mind to think of, well... anything but this messy vertigo craziness.
Then, in a frenzy of mindful debris, clarity returns. The sensation of slowness is back, in an instant (but slow). Nails return to their companion planks. Cables wind tightly around solid stakes in the earth. Chaos becomes order. Sideways is up. The bridge is old and rustic, but sound. There is no wind, my mind is calm. The sun has returned and its warmth finds its way through chunky clouds to find ground, make shadow. I feel a gentle tug at my sleeve, from whom I do not know. I've made it across. Strange. Onward I go.
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