A Bridge of Sighs is my take on this week’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge. I was challenged to make a choice from the four photos: nothing really sprang to mind, although, having read the previous posts where the images were previewed, I was wandering along the same path a little further up the valley, and remembering the Merlin and Kingfisher I’d seen in these lower meadows. So… blame it on the kingfisher.
It’s 150 words.
CCC053 – A Bridge of Sighs
They crossed the iron frame bridge and paused, gazing into the water ambling underneath.
“What was that?” She started as something flew underneath them. “That flash of blue.”
“Oh, must have been a kingfisher. I didn’t see it.”
She sighed. “I never get a really good look at a kingfisher; only a brief flash of blue. Can we dally a while in case it comes back?”
Dallying was filled with discussion of bridges, iron manufacture (really common around here, due to the disused railways), and how high the river would rise to dislodge it.
“It wouldn’t break, even in a deluge. The seatings would get eroded or badly damaged, then it would float away on the flood.” He sighed in turn. “Those Victorians knew how to build things. Oh look!” He pointed as something approached, flying upriver.
“Darn it!” She sighed once more, and led him on up the path.
© J M Pett 2025
LOL. Those pesky birds can be so uncooperative!
I am smiling. Other people see kingfishers but never me. Yet I’ve always lived near to rivers, spent many many hours walking the banks, and at one time sitting quietly and fishing. But no, never seen one.
I’d only seen one in France before I lived in Lenwade. Quite a few places further up the Wensum used to be reliable for them. And the hides at RSPB Strumpshaw 🙂