I've mentioned before that my road dead ends at the river... well at the slope above the river. Actually, there used to be a bridge across it that continued the road, but it was washed out decades ago. Now the county, in all their spend spend spend wisdom, has decided to reconstruct the bridge. There's nothing on the other side but a shabby road and some empty property, but... evidently there's extra money to spend and they chose my slice of the wilderness to spend it on. It took three people to come out and spray paint florescent orange X's on the trees they want to take down - a necessary expenditure, I'm sure. Don't get me started!
I don't mind the idea of a bridge being there really, and it will give us something to fish off of and a neato place to take the dogs walking. What I do mind is the construction noise and the gods-awful mess right outside my house! We're only a few days into it and I'm already so tired of hearing that annoying beepbeepbeep sound as the big rigs back up that I'm starting to feel the madness that Poe depicts at the end of The Bells... yeesh. Further, I didn't move out here so I could see bulldozers outside my kitchen window!
*deep cleansing breath*
I'm looking out my back window, my picture window. All I can see is river. We've had pouring rain for the past two days and the river is huge and raging (perhaps in protest to the nearby disruption!). I am awed by its power and wrath, and oddly soothed by it's thunderous tumble. Roll on, baby... roll on!