It has been awhile since I have found a new spot to travel down...not knowing where it leads.
The rustic red rafters, of the bridge, caught my eye, before I saw the narrow road.
I pulled over, in the grass, to see what might be under the small bridge.
There is a large ravine, that probably fills with water when it rains.
Looking down the road, you can see the sharp right turn.
It's certainly not a famous bridge, with centuries of history. Standing there, in the quiet of the country, it reminded me of a poem by Emily Dickinson.
"Faith.... is the Pierless Bridge supporting what we see unto the scene that we do not".