Tanya Writes About New England's Covered Bridges. Sigh.

Oh, some things are just too darn romantic. I don't mean foreplay-romantic like strawberries and champagne or a candlelit dinner with fine wine. I mean things that follow the true definition of romance: idealism. Just how you want things to be.

Like a perfect flickering fireplace with rain splashing against the windows. (Or if you live in a land of snow, with flakes landing noiselessly outside.) Sunset especially over any body of water. Half Dome in the dusk with lights from the Ahwanee Hotel behind you. A full moon any time. And--

Covered bridges.

Now, a few years ago there was a book and movie celebrating covered bridges and a love story. But I didn't like the plot. I'm just not into adultery, and the cuckolded husband was a good guy. (It might have been bearable if he'd been a jerk.) But the bridges. I did get that.



So when we had the chance in New England, we scoped out those beautiful structures. Yeah, I know. The reason for them isn't all that beautiful: To keep heavy snowfall from crushing a bridge into the river below.



To prevent cows/horses from getting spooked when they saw/heard rushing water below.

But to a California native, the covered bridges were better than...Disneyland.

And now with fall upon us again, I look back on those days with wonder. Waterville Valley in New Hampshire is full of them...Some lucky person lives next door to the
Blair Bridge. It's just an everyday thing to that family.



To me, it was, well, dare I use an overbloated word like surreal?

Wow, to quote the grandbaby.

I can just imagine how beautiful the leaves back there look today. Because I've been there. Done that.

And will be doing it again.

(P.s. My hero and I are off to the tropics for almost two weeks...so blogging will be next to nil. We intend to snorkel and read and relax and--ahem--do some romantic things as well.)