By John R Greenwood
I've always wanted to buy a bridge, so when one came on the market a deal was struck, the bridge was mine. It's a beautiful specimen, vintage-strong with a roof of red. A consignment shop find. A real bargain. It sat unnoticed beneath a table of trinkets and glassware. It had work to do. There were gaps to bridge and so it did. Behind the counter a baby cooed in it's mother's arms. A toddler squirmed and wiggled free. A happy place where people come to buy and sell, and smile. A village spot beneath the trees that line the street. A country store but more. A home beneath a home. A collection of collections, a space filled space, a Saturday destination for a husband and wife in no particular hurry. As I left with my bridge tucked under my arm I felt complete. The gap now bridged. The task complete.
The centerpiece of this story Consignment Bridge was purchased at Faerydale Consignment Shop in Salem New York. If you find yourself chasing the fall foliage in the months to come, stop in and say hello to Robyn the owner. She will be holding a little one I'm sure. Take a look around. You may just find the bridge of your dreams...