Just the name was kind and
comforting. Tydings, like
good thoughts and warm
wishes given to you. The
bridge was flat, not showy;
it reeked with memories of
long car rides to Grandpa's,
smelled not of river water
but of cool, crisp air, and
displayed a deep blue water-
way surrounded by evergreen
forests and bright green
road signs.

Without the graceful arches
or outstanding ruby hue of
the Golden Gate, it was the
type of bridge few would
consider special.

For those who appreciated
casual beauty, however, it
was a haven.

12/19/2005

Author's Note: This was actually written during the summer of 2005, but I forget the exact date.

Posted on 12/20/2005
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