bridge - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The bridge was a welcoming arch of golden bricks amid the green hills.
There is a kind of relaxation that comes at the midpoint of the bridge, letting one's feet full rest, remaining in an extended moment, hearing the blues of the water sing in reflected sunlight notes.
The bridge had graced this landscape for all of living memory and to my heart it was source of joy, for it was how we visited friends upon the other side.
Abby wondered how many bricks it took to build a bridge, how many of those perfectly imperfect blocks of clay went into creating such a structure. She skipped over the golden-yellow surface, her eyes seeing the variations in the hue, how parts of the clay had been a more earthen brown. Pausing in the centre she peeked at the water that flowed underneath, as if it were some immortal and fluid vein of the planet. Then she skipped on to the other side, to the fairground and the bonny music that played.
The bridge strode over the river with the confidence of the young and the competence of the wise.