Fresh back from figurative bridges in the desert and urban bridges overseas, I’m forever wondering what bridges symbolize and how they vary.
The bridge metaphor may be a tired one, but yesterday, a Seattle Times article reminded me of a suspension bridge in the foothills, and I was off to visit Calatrava in the forest (my play on the great Spanish structural engineer, Santiago Calatrava), designed by a similar local engineering innovator, Jack Christiansen.
The Gateway suspension bridge on the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River is a unique welcome to the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, and I had not seen it since its resurfacing in 2019.
During my visit, I compared the bridge to those of European tradition and majesty—even those on which daily life was conducted— and saw it as symbolic of the changes which so many of us experience. In that light, if you enjoy surfing the internet for essays about interpersonal, cultural, or institutional “bridging” in troubled times, I promise you a field day.
Bridging Gaps and Contextual Paths
My dislocations of the past two years have made me increasingly interested in this speculation, and how to “bridge” together disparate events in distant places.
On a more professional level, I have also found myself extending observations from the urban context to more natural settings, comparing raw infrastructure such as roads and bridges to natural features and observing how they present in different mixes from place to place.
Whether urban or rural, bridges link two shores, and while often part of a daily routine, the transition across is sometimes a daunting event. When we cross a bridge, it may key some added trepidation or excitement; it sometimes feels a bit different on the other side.
Some Further Thoughts
The Gateway suspension bridge is an example of the way to exploration, as it ends perpendicular to two trails into the backcountry. It’s a bit of a welcome to the unknown and into the real possibility that bear or cougar sitings are potentially more dangerous than life left behind.
In other words, bridges like this can be hope, perseverance, and resilience incarnate: cross this way, take a risk, and show how to overcome obstacles along the path.
Central Casting Ends the Day
All this speculation about bridges, and all of us as bridge-crossers, called for a dramatic conclusion, and I’m afraid the central casting staff was watching.
On cue, a wedding photographer and her newlyweds appeared from not-too-far-away Seattle to tell their morning wedding story and return to the overused metaphor for life’s transitions, growth, change, and discovery.
I did not want to be cynical and talked to the groom for a surprisingly long time at one end of the bridge. As he hung back, I wondered if he was reluctant to cross. If so, I wanted no part of it and wished him luck—as if to reassure him of the ceremony he had just completed— and to remind him that it was time for him to cross over, and address his trepidation.