The construction company is finally putting in the big pieces on the bridge across "my" river. Until now it's been months of tearing down the old abutments, digging, filling, regrading, building supports. Lots of noise, little to look at. Yesterday I watched from my porch as the big crane swung the side rails into place. It was impressive - especially to watch half of a bridge swinging by within 15 yards of my kitchen window!
Of course, being the ceaselessly philosophical creature I am, I began thinking about figurative bridges. I thought particularly about bridges in my life that have recently both been burned and built. Had my old figurative bridge not been torn down (torn down? it was a freekin' wrecking ball at work!), my new figurative bridge would never have come into being.
Growth comes with cost, sometimes with pain (I recall hearing one of the workers curse when he hammered his thumb last week - I can relate). Sometimes the process seems endless, the toil futile. Then suddenly there's a structure in place - a thing both useful and aesthetically pleasing (with any luck). As it turns out, it takes a team to put something worthy in place. But, you wake up one day to a different view and think, "Hey... look what we built!"
Moral of the story: If the old stuff doesn't work, tear it down and rebuild.
~The Story, Brandi Carlile