![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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:
no subject
There's a wicked (90 degree) turn on my street between here and my office. I have seen the aftermath of many cars not making the turn, with track marks in the swamp or on the snow. Last month, they finally put in a guard rail. I wonder how long before ours looks like yours?
no subject