Again this morning, in a cold wind

bridge-cables-red-Golden-Gate-Bridge

Again this morning, in a cold wind from the future, I walked all the way to the end of the long bridge of my life, having a look at its cables, its rods and rivets, its perforated metal flooring through which I could see whitecaps slamming the pylons. Then I turned and came back, inspecting it all from the other direction, fretting about every hex nut and bolt though they seem sound enough to hold things together. I ought to give the long bridge of my life a little rest, but every day it seems I’m walking from past to possibility and back to past with my brush and aluminum paint, hiding the rust, the deepening cracks, dabbing a shine here and there.

~ Ted Kooser, November. The Wheeling Year: A Poet’s Field Book


Notes:

  • Note to self: Now. 4:23 am. 21º F. Wind, cold. 13 mph from the West.
  • Credits: Photograph – peopleus.

11 thoughts on “Again this morning, in a cold wind

  1. Did you see the cover story in The Atlantic this month, about age and happiness? (I kind of expected a blog on it when I heard about it yesterday). In a nutshell, it’s shown biologically that our unhappiness peaks in our 40’s and we become happier thereafter, with happiness potentially peaking in our 70’s. You would think the introspection we experience as we age would cause unhappiness, though apparently that is not so.

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