Maybe its an age thing, maybe I just never paid that much attention. But I was lazily scrolling through some old photographs this afternoon when I was joined by the youngest son.
Recognising some old memories he sat with me for a while and we talked about the old days. It was when we reached photos from about 2015, from a trip to a park we used to visit, my scrolling was stopped.
“They changed the bridge!” He said.
By the park theres a canal, and the canal is crossed by an old steel tube Bridge. I based a short story on it The Follow Me Bridge. I was very familiar with it so we argued back and forth.
“It looks nothing like that!” He said.
So we went looking through my old photos for a more recent image of the bridge. And I’ll be darned.
I have some snowy images of the bridge from this Christmas taken on the way back from an evening of drinks and nibbles at the vicarage. About ten years separate these images.
I have no idea when the new bridge went in, I simply didn’t notice. Probably too busy thinking up spooky stories to pay attention to the real world.
But can you blame me, living somewhere as spooky cool as this?
Duggan's Dig 
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