I walk a park path and stop to gaze at a bridge running over a river. The bridge conjures up thoughts about a journey and a desire to cross over it — although I can see the other side.
I’m absorbed the stillness around me at this moment, the fall colors and the reflection of the bridge and autumn colored trees in the water.
It’s feels like I’m in a painting by Childe Hassam or William Merritt Chase with the soft colors and interplay of light. I have a camera with me, but wish I was handy with an easel and paintbrush.
I stop and take a picture and continue on my way over the bridge as the early evening light fades, to see what I discover on the other side.