Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

It’s been a habit for about three years.

While riding toward St. Marys, Ontario, I stop at the bottom of a gravel lane just off the highway east of Bryanston, get off my bike, and take pictures from a spot where an old bridge once stood.


[“The new bridge is east of valley View Rd.”: photos GH]


A branch of the Thames River winds through a scenic valley and past a large horse farm.


On a windy day, as it was on Friday, the bridge creates a bit of a melody and the marsh grass sings the chorus.


Sometimes, I’ll sit on the old footings of the long-forgotten bridge, sip a half-thermos of tea and experience a strange phenomenon.


[“The marsh grass sings the chorus”]

Though only twenty minutes will pass, they will feel like 60.

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Please click here to connect with earlier photos from the same location.

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