Old bridge on May Day

A story from the banks of a forest river

If today there was no self-isolation and one could go on a trip, then one could go on a trip. Get in the car and drive somewhere to the west. Somehow a couple of years ago I was in this situation. Then we traveled a long way from Kostroma to Pskov. Pskov is a city on the western border of Russia. Only the Republic of Belarus and then Poland are to the west.

It is especially pleasant after a long winter to go through forests and fields, small villages, rivers and swamps. Not far from my home, from the city of Kostroma, in some places in the Yaroslavl region, I stopped on the banks of a small river.

The sun was shining brightly and the sky was so blue that I wanted to get out of the car and look at the world around. So we did.

Despite the fact that there was still very little grass on earth, it was felt that spring had already arrived.

The dark viscous waters of the stream and the reflections in these waters were very good. And I was captivated by an old wooden bridge.

He was almost broken, sagging over the river and looked as if he had a very complex and long life.

An old bridge and a young nature that screamed from every corner about how good life is. This opposition caused a rush in my soul, almost tears.

It would seem that nothing special - just a bridge, a river and a forest. But if you think about it a little, a whole philosophical story is built.

And then we just stood, looked at everything around, got into the car and drove on. Forward to new experiences. Reviewing photographs from the day that was exactly on those same May days only two years ago, I again plunge into philosophical thoughtfulness.

I wonder what this bridge looks like now? Whether it collapsed completely or it was repaired and now it looks young again and is ready to live on, delighting people.

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