I returned from my 2-week trip to find this scene near the post office:
It may not look like much to you if you don’t know that when I left there was a wooden walkway where the cement one now lies. If I had a picture of the wooden walkway, I’d post it here, giving you a simple before-and-after example. But I don’t. And why would I? It was a wooden walkway, something I saw and used every day, no big deal at all. Hardly worth a photo.
And now it’s gone…
Here’s an example of what it looked like:
You know, a wooden walkway. Maybe it’s even called a “boardwalk,” but I’m not sure about that. Imagine the above, only stretched the length of the cement walkway in the earlier picture. And imagine it in advanced disrepair, with loose boards, rickety foundation, nails sticking out…a splinter factory. I think replacing it was probably a wise move, from both a moral and legal standpoint. But I feel nostalgic for it.
AND it made me want to start snapping pictures of the things all around it, the things that may be gone tomorrow and I’ll have no record of them. Like this…
If I went to the post office tomorrow and this red thing, that seems to be chained to a post so no one will steal it, was not there, I’d REALLY wish I had a picture of it. Like I now do. I don’t even know what the red thing is , or is for, but I felt the need to capture it in time.
Some day it may be replaced by a more permanent sign, and I’ll be glad I have this little snapshot. And so will you.
Pile of bricks in the corner, how I’ll miss you when you’re gone. But this picture will help ease the pain.