An Echo On The River

Tonight’s image is the remnant of the old bridge at Gauley Bridge. If memory serves me it was burned down during the American Civil War. To me it not only represents history but also a lost future. The fog that surrounds the old pylon gives me the feeling of something ethereal like a visitor from the past has come to the future to check up on things. Is it a manifestation of a memory or am I a vision of the future? It’s in these moments when the past and the future seem to collide that fascinate me. Maybe it was the fog on the river and maybe it was the contrast between the old stones and the seedling trees that are growing out from it that seemed to suspend and warp time for me. I can imagine that I can hear a lament echoing out from the fog. It’s a voice from the past warning not to burn bridges and be quick to reconcile with those on the other side of river.

The Outsider

“I wanna play too.” The young boy mumbled in a hushed voice as he pressed his little head against the locked gate. He had watched the older boys out on field catching fly balls and running the bases. He just knew in his heart that he could impress them if they would just give him a chance. All he needed was for someone to unlock the gate.

At some point we’ve all been the outsider. The one who just needed a chance. It’s the loneliest feeling in world to think that you’re unwanted and underappreciated. But it’s not always a lock and chain that keeps us out. More often than not it’s our own anxiety. It’s the fence that we put around ourselves and a chain forged from our own fears. When we do this it’s like we give the key to someone else and wait to see if they open the lock. Tonight as I look at the locked gate in my photo I wonder how many times I’ve fenced myself out and given the key to someone who had a gate of their own and was too preoccupied with their own lock to notice that I wanted them to open mine? Well then. If that’s the case then maybe it’s time to unlock the gate ourselves and march out onto the field and swing for the bleachers. Who knows, we might even score a home run.