the creek, the guardrail, the cars, and the shadows of leaves
There is a tiny creek that I love to pass by; it's a little cleft in the land, and it's protected from automotive intrusion by a guardrail. This winter, the guardrail was not sufficiently strong to prevent a wayward car from forcing its attentions on the creek:

For several months thereafter, the guard rail lay like that, much more intimate with the creek than it had every been before. Finally, the highway department put in a shiny new guardrail.
. . . But the other day I went by and . . .

This time it almost looks deliberately rammed, as if its very shininess was provocation.
There's shivered safety glass in the crannies:

I like the green shadows of the leaves on the post:


For several months thereafter, the guard rail lay like that, much more intimate with the creek than it had every been before. Finally, the highway department put in a shiny new guardrail.
. . . But the other day I went by and . . .

This time it almost looks deliberately rammed, as if its very shininess was provocation.
There's shivered safety glass in the crannies:

I like the green shadows of the leaves on the post:

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Here where I live, you are always on the lookout for corners because they are so common here. But people who visit from parts of the country where corners are much rarer are often caught out by our wild corners and therefore come to grief.
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