I grew up in South Windsor, a suburb of Hartford, CT. When we first moved there, our street was the beginning of a larger neighborhood of new houses. Back then, it was only one dead-end street. We lived on the cul-de-sac at the top of the hill.
In winters, our street was last to be plowed, if plowed at all. That meant hours of sledding until the dads came home from work to attempt the slipping, skidding drive up the hill to their homes, spoiling the sledding trails we had worked all day to perfect.
In summers, we explored hills and fields and woods and ponds. If we were adventurous (read: our moms would not find out), we’d cross the field across the street, follow trails through the strip of woods, and find our way to the BIG pond where the old Podunk Mill once operated. If we dared to sneak to the front of the pond (actually a puddling of the Podunk River caused by a man-made dam), we’d spend time at the waterfall that splashed under the covered walkway that connected a parking lot with the mill.
At some point, the mill property had been renovated as a restaurant, and the bridge was named the Kissing Bridge. Over the years, the restaurant has changed hands and names many times, but the Kissing Bridge always remains.
If you’d like to explore the significant history of this place a bit more, here’s the link to the current restaurant that calls the Mill Pond home.
Photo prompt: Door
Writing prompt: The Kissing Bridge. Imagine the goings-on here. No. Really. Go ahead and imagine. What are the stories this bridge could tell if it could speak? Listen and write one down. Go. Write. Have fun.
For more info about the photo challenge, go here: http://www.susannahconway.com/the-august-break-2015/
Photo and writing prompt © Carol Munro, 2015