The old bridge, strong for over a hundred years.
The tales it could tell.
Of the babbling brook that flows beneath
or of the footsteps that walked above.
This bridge, of man-sized stones tightly bound.
Even Mother Nature with her attempts,
blizzards, earthquakes, heavy rains. The bridge remains
Presidents and dignitaries have enjoyed the cool waters of the river.
Children laughing while crossing and lovers kissing on the bridge.
The bridge being a part of their lives.
The Old bridge
Guiding and leading through the walk of life.
Boulder Bridge, built 1902. Rock Creek Park, Washington D.C.
Categories: Foot Prints, history, Maryland Area Hikes, poetry, travel, Washington DC
Inspiration for my miniature garden! 😉
That would be awesome! Thank you Adelso
it will be done! 😉
I absolutely love this Emily. Beautiful words to match a stunning picture.
You are so sweet Miriam. I took another break from posting. But it was long overdue. Was in Florida this week so lots of pics to catch up on from that trip. Hope all is well with you.
It’s nice to have a break every now and then to recharge. But I do look forward to seeing those shots from Florida. You have an amazing eye.
Thank you so much Miriam. 🙂
I bet that bridge is held together by shear gumption. Looks like a great engineering marvel! Great capture!
Such a beautiful bridge it is. Thank you Ilex!
Such a lovely image and poem. A perfect match!
You are so kind Beth. So happy you enjoyed this post.
I love this image Em……great composition and a subject full of character
Can’t you see the bridge wanting to talk? Thank you Mark. You see the bridge as I do.
Thank you Sarah.
My pleasure 🙂