I thought I knew the place, the calm water, the sky, the well-maintained banks. Today no sound of a heavy barge to trouble the silence: but there, the solid reality of the bridge, and no human in sight. How could I have missed it before? Walking along this path it is unmissable, so what did I do? Or should I ask, what did the bridge do? Is there a secret, a way to make it appear? Is there a genie somewhere, a malicious spirit, playing with the fragile human imagination? Today it’s there, but tomorrow? Maybe not.
Do I know where I am, can I be sure? I started this walk today, in the morning of September 12, 2021. I
am was sure. I look at my watch, it has stopped. I look at the bridge. I look at my reflection, in the water. What I see is not me, but a much older person: the mirror tells me that I missed a turn, sometime, maybe long ago.