Blue Bridge

Durham has totally changed the old foot bridge over the Durham Freeway/Expressway, East-West Expressway, NC147, I-40, or whatever that road is called that runs from the Triangle to downtown Durham. The old bridge was a piece of crap -- built to tie two parts of a neighborhood split by the road in the 1970's and had the artistic flair of a white piece of paper laying on top of a piece of gray cardboard. It was a long, green "I-Beam" that the city closed at least 15 years ago bc no one felt it was safe to travel through there...

The new bridge is amazing. The perfect example of how things ought to be, and sets a cool tone for entry into Durham from the east. Tonight's picture is of the new bridge, with a longer exposure because it was night, I was driving and was, of course, a little pissed that I didn't get it. I suppose I found out the "what you want" may turn into "damn, look what I got."

I'm a bridge-ophile -- I'm sure there's a better word than that one, but I do like admiring their grace, the style, how their role can define a space. Would any design "fit" in the space between San Fran and Marin County other than the Golden Gate Bridge? The way a soaring fly-way like the Sunshine Skyway (I like that Skyway name, btw) fit in the Tampa Bay. The raw ugliness of the George Washington Bridge in New York cuts across the sky as if to remind us that Robert Moses didn't care what it looked like as long it was built.

A good day mostly, with mostly local travel for kids and work, and a great opportunity to both meet with a personal trainer for the first time and go to Madison for my friend Tom's 50th birthday. While the day had strange elements, the hardest thing was driving through Gboro at 6 pm on a Friday -- something I hadn't done in a long time, and yet still felt both odd and bittersweet. But I passed through, made it north, and returned the same way with no incident.

And tonight I was reminded why the call to another can be its own form of grace. I finally called my dear friend, who is still suffering from the loss of a great love but just returned from Italy, to see how her trip had been and spent a few minutes encouraging her to get out and see some friends. It was a good few minutes of catching up, but it was grace in action for us both. From it, I was dubbed "St. Wendover." Still chuckling about that...

Off to Indy first thing in the morning. Supposedly there are cool things to be seen there. Who knows?