Morning on the bridge

An experience:

Here I stand on a stone bridge at seven o’clock on a misty winter’s morning. Looking out over the river. I am surrounded on all sides by a thick curtain of fog. My world, alone, intruded upon only infrequently by a passing car. Grey night turns to day as the car approaches, the piercing headlights illuminating my solitary universe. Then all turns to sunset as it passes, the red tail-lights completing one short day. The metallic hum and roar of this artificial sun grow distant quickly in this blanket of fog, soon out of hearing as if it had never passed this way, returning me to my private island of night and my own thoughts.

My mind soon slows as I stand shrouded in this personal world, apart from the everyday reality. All troubles and distractions seem distant and removed. I use this feeling of calm detachment to meditate. Here on this bridge feeling the low cloud above me and the river below, letting their flows ease my mind into a calm state. A great feeling of peace and quietude comes to me. Thus I stay for some time until the outside world catches my attention once more.

I look about myself at this normal setting turned beautiful through the medium of fog. The street lights float in the sky as balls of luminous cloud. The river lies still as ice whilst the mist rolls over like water. The silhouette of trees is pierced by rays of light which trace paths of fire through the smoky air. The air itself is still and I hear no rustling in the trees. In fact, I hear no sound at all from the ducks I know live under the bridge, neither do I hear distant cars on their way to work, alarm clocks waking people to their day nor even any of the number of morning people who are out and about at this time delivering papers and milk or cleaning the streets.

This world has stopped. My breathing, the rustle of my clothes and my footsteps are the only sounds in existence. I feel as if this whole world is a dream, something illusory which we choose to live in and experience so as to learn and grow.

My breath fogs in front of me and I realise that I am cold. Yet I do not feel deadened or numbed by this cold, rather invigorated, renewed. The damp air has settled on me, washing me clean, waking me up to the reality of this world once again. Sensation reminds us that we are alive and that we exist for a reason so I shall go back into the world and live but carry this knowledge and feeling of otherness within me.