I love bridges. To me, a bridge is a immensely physical symbol of a journey in progress. Over their spans stories unfold into the world, and that thought sets my heart dreaming. Growing up in Pennsylvania, covered bridges were something I was quite familiar with, but going through one never lost is special charm. As a child I used to think of them as portals to whole other worlds and, in a sense, this is what all bridges are.

Covered Bridge
The covered bridge depicted above isn’t from my native commonwealth, but from Sturbridge Village, in Massachusetts.