The late Fall sun hangs low in the sky and hovers just above the ridges of the Appalachian Mountains. I find myself returning from a day of running errands and on the way home I’m drawn to the wonderful old railway bridge at Gauley Bridge. The small town bosts a population of around 600 people now that the mines are shut down and all the tourists are gone. With the exception of the occasional passersby like myself the streets are quite and it would be easy to think of yourself as having the world all to yourself. At the base of the bridge the illusion of solitude is enhanced by the vegetation that hides the homes which are nestled comfortably at the base of the mountain on the far side of river. Occasionally I can hear music or smell the smoke from a well tended hearth. But, for the most part the world consists only of the bridge and the quiet river. The small birds fluster about in the bushes collecting the bits and pieces that will thicken their nest against the oncoming winter. Bridges symbolize transition and we stand on the edge of of the change in seasons. In just 21 days Fall will end and winter will begin. The shadows start to grow short again and old Sol will slowly climb to his rightful place in the sky. In 21 days the new light will come. This is the transition that I look forward to as I stand beneath the bridge.
Good night friends and be blessed throughout your days.
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