Shhhhhhh. I won't tell, if you won't tell. This is what happens when you try to take a picture and cross the bridge at the same time. Isn't that cool??
I wanted a picture of the Rockport bridge on 231 because of the patterns of all the (usually, and in real life) straight lines running through the view as you drive under the two parts of the bridge. I love that the first center, or whatever you call the part where the cables attach, frames the second one. It's like driving under a gigantic piece of string art! Remember that stuff? I don't remember ever successfully completing a string art picture, but I do remember seeing some made by my cousins and thinking I wanted to do that. Barbara Ann and Leianne, maybe my mind is playing tricks on my memory, but I can picture a piece of string art propped up on the mantel at Grandma's house.
I especially liked wire string art. Remember the stuff with all the tiny nails and the copper or brass colored wires running between them to form a shape?
This funkadelic bridge to home is what we cross into Kentucky nowadays. There are a few different ways to travel between our Illinois home and my parents' Kentucky home, but this one has become my favorite. Interstates are fine for taking you quickly across a state (ahem, I might be talking about Indiana, but only because it creates extra distance between me and mine, not because it isn't interesting). However, the most fun to be had behind the wheel happens on four laners cutting through the middle of nowhere, weaving two laners crossing real valleys and artificial ones cut through hills, and even tinier two laners that seem like so much asphalt thread sewing together little pompon towns. Yes, I love a Kentucky backroad! After we leave US 60, taking that turn onto KY86, I really start to feel one with the road...and, heck, if you're going to drive that road, you'd better do a little Yoda-like use of the Force to guide you safely! Oh, the sights on that road, too. Kentucky isn't all rolling horse pastures and lovely homes, and I gotta tell you that all jokes notwithstanding, I have to adore the real country sights. I might laugh a little at the chicken coop/pop-up camper in that one backyard, but it's kind of a laugh of recognition and a laugh of marvel at ingenuity and truly recycling/reusing. One of these days, I'll have to find a safe spot to stop along the road and snap a picture of that one.