They say the eye is the window to the soul and as I stare at the lidless empty socket under the bridge, I wonder how far I would have to gaze to find its soul.
“It’s just an illusion,” my friend said, when I mentioned it to him. “Don’t be silly.”
Still, the more I gaze at it, the more the details come together and I see the bridge staring back at me. I almost wish it would blink, yet I hope it never does.
taken in Rochester, New York
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February 3rd, 2013 at 1:32 pm
delightfully beautiful. I love the image. Black and white photos are so much more dramatic.
February 3rd, 2013 at 8:50 pm
Yeah, I liked it better black and white for this one. Thanks.
February 4th, 2013 at 12:08 am
Intelligent use of the photo. Great writing I must say.
February 4th, 2013 at 2:03 am
Excellent writing.
I am thinking that I see a boy jumping from the bridge on a hot summer day. I see a canoe with a couple paddling near the railroad bridge. I see a man and his son sitting on the far shore – - – fishing and talking about nothing and everything – - – and the son remembering that day years later, I see an old man walking over the bridge with a cane – - – stopping and stooping over the cement rail to see if he spot a fish, or a muskrat or a beaver – - – but he is disappointed because they all disappeared years ago – - – years ago when he used to jump off the same bridge on a hot summer day, I see a woman with one leg over the railing – - – contemplating – - – because the man that she once sat in a canoe with – - – has left her and his son – - – only to find himself thinking about that day he and his son fished on the far shore. I see a bridge whose eye has seen it all, past – - – present – - – and future.
February 4th, 2013 at 9:54 am
A bridge sees a lot. I like your insight. Thank you.
February 5th, 2013 at 3:55 am
Super shot
February 5th, 2013 at 8:02 pm
Thanks.
February 16th, 2013 at 3:47 pm
it certainly looks like an eye