Bridges

Lately I find myself more uncomfortable with bridges. The sheer height of them is the biggest problem, of course, but I also have begun to lack faith in civil engineering, bridge inspections, and the quality of routine maintenance. But no matter, I still go over bridges, albeit in the right lane and under the speed limit.

I was noticing the bridges on the way to Cape Cod today, and I found myself thinking about them more metaphorically than structurally.

Bridge:
a structure carrying a pathway or roadway over a depression or obstacle
OR
a time, place, or means of connection or transition

A bridge isn’t just an engineering structure. It’s also a sense of being in-between, of traveling a shortcut from one thing to another that bypasses some challenge, some messiness to be avoided. It was fun to consider those kinds of bridges in my travel time today.

The first bridge on the trip is the Delaware Memorial Bridge. One of the horrible features of that bridge is the see-through guard rail, which makes it hard to forget the river so far down underneath. I was thinking about how we often like to avoid looking at the things that we bridge over. And yet, sometimes that view is important – it can be beautiful (if you don’t mind the height), and it can be educational. If I focus too much on the bridge, I can miss the bigger picture.

The next big bridge is the Tappan Zee. Lo and behold, a new span is going up alongside the one I’ve been traveling for years. There’s a metaphor for you! Sometimes, a bridge outlives its usefulness and it’s necessary to build a whole new one. For a while, I pondered what new bridges I might want to construct. What shortcuts and routines in my life just need to be scrapped in favor of a new approach? How can I build a new bridge while simultaneously traveling the old one?

In Providence, Rhode Island, the highway zooms above the city on long interconnected bridges that keep traffic flowing (on a good day). Having lived in Rhode Island for a while, I know that Providence is a lovely city with a lot to offer, but on the bridges hurrying through, we miss all that charm. How much do we miss by taking the bridges and shortcuts? Where are the places in my life where I might want to exit off the bridges and travel the back roads?

Finally, there’s the Bourne Bridge entryway to the Cape. This bridge comes up seemingly out of nowhere and leaps high over the canal, feeling almost like a roller coaster rather than a roadway. I always hold my breath on the way over, clutching the wheel, but immediately shout for joy on the other side. Cape Cod!! I am reminded once again that sometimes the best things in life require a scary leap. I don’t feel like I’m facing any leaps in the near term, but sometimes they can appear suddenly before you. I am reminded to hold on and to delight in whatever turns up on the other side.

I came to the Cape for rest, relaxation, retreat, rumination, and rejuvenation. The drive was my metaphorical bridge from real life to respite. Before checking in to the B&B, I went straight to Breakwater Beach. This is what I come to the Cape for.

Life is but a bridge we build, to link before and after. And wise the man who builds his span of faith, and love, and laughter.
~ Unknown