The Bridge from where my Grandmother Lives

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The bridge is from a photo I took a couple of years ago in my grandmother's town. She lives in the suburbs, so it's a lot like a village, and there's a couple of bridges connecting it to the city across the river.

It's a very narrow and run-down bridge and is as basic as it looks. There are just poles in the water, holding up nothing but 2 planks of wood on which you stand, some 15-25 centimeters above the water. It hardly feels sturdy when you walk on it - it wobbles with each step, and seeing the strong current only inches below your feet isn't to reassuring either, but it's a very interesting experience crossing it nonetheless.

It's a feeling like you're about to just go along ith the flow - either the wind blows you off into the water, or the bridge will give way for a piece to break off, and turn into your own mini-raft. Scary, true, so I always hold on to the handrails. I found it impossible to walk foreward without holding onto the rails because of te sence of everything moving. It's not only the water - the wind blows in the smae direction, and even the clouds seem to follow the river's path!

Actually a lot of people use this bridge. It's old and worn, and there are some places where one of the planks fell of, or cracked and was removed, but it's still used by a lot of people. You can't run a long it - either a rule due to it's age, or because it's too scary (for parents).

I remeber this bridge from hen I was still living with my grandmother. It's very vague, but when I was there for easter, the sense of deja vu never left me. I'm not even sure you could call it deja vu, since I knew I had been there before, but just forgot about it until then.

This made me think: I have many very vague memories of living at my grandmother's, but can't connect them all to places I know -- like the bridge. There were many places I went to play.  It makes me want to go there again. Not just to visit my grandmother, but to go and explore, to see and remember these places I used to play at so long ago.

It's a wonderful feeling to remember things that I forgot -- I get it a lot when I re-read book. Nonetheless, they can't compare to experiencingthis in real life, and I wish to og alongthat bridge again -- I'll choose a day and time when there are few people around, so that I can walk along that bridge to it's middle, and then, stranded in this place where everyhting is moving, I'll try again to let go of the handrails and walk along the swaying path before me so that I, once again, feel alive.