The Bridges Of Madison County Novels & Stories

Surely there must be something else that she could do. She had to cross over a bridge that spanned a large fork of Muddy Creek and through a wooded area behind her house. Though Lamar was being settled fairly rapidly, the area right behind the Pike house had yet to be occupied, mostly because of the creek and the fear of flooding. Still, it was easier for Cordia to make her way from Susannah’s house through this little scenic area than to stick to the city streets. The little narrow footbridge that crossed the creek here was one of only four bridges that spanned this waterway that encircled the town from the northwest. There was one more just as narrow a few miles down the stream and then tw

But he eventually managed to do it and now several hours later, he finally sees the Mackinac bridge getting closer and closer. He sits up taller in his seat as he sees the magnificent bridge before him. His eyes light up as he looks at it with such awe. Noah's never seen anything like this before. He's only seen the small little bridges in town, nothing like this! Even the body of water is massive. He's only seen the small lakes, never a great lake!

Not because it trusted him. But because nothing out here was meant to matter. A bridge came into view—stone arches slick with moss, its railings cracked. Beneath it, the river whispered against black rocks, too shallow to drown in, but deep enough to forget. On the other side: a milestone snapped in two. One half gone. The other sunken in the mud, covered in tally marks. Thirty-seven. He didn’t count the others. A shadow passed overhead—wide wings, silent. Not a bird.

The Great River was less a body of water and more a wound in the earth. It was black, churning, and wider than a football field, separating Onyx City’s territory from the wilder Western lands. We crouched in the reeds on the muddy bank, looking upriver. About a mile away, the only bridge spanned the gap. Floodlights illuminated it. Even from here, I could see the glint of Council Enforcer armor patrolling the span. "Bridge is a kill box," Jinx whispered, lowering her digital binoculars. "They have thermal scanners and a mage unit stationed at the midpoint. If we step foot on that concrete, we’re dust."

Eleanor said the word that was her word for the hills. “Yes," I said. "Just like that." Nick's POV Luke found the river. Of course he did. Within the first week of moving to the smaller city he had located every bridge within cycling distance. There were four. He rated them in order of structural interest and reported his findings to me with the seriousness of a researcher presenting data. “The oldest one is the best," he said. "It has cast iron components from the original construction. Most of the bridges you see now use those components as decorative elements but this one has them load-bearing. The engineer who designed it knew what they were doing."

As the mansion sat perched on the hill, Sherry had not once left the place on foot. The wide bridge was made of reinforced steel and concrete, withstanding the harsh winds and rains that regularly lashed the Cross Empire. On either side of the bridge stood towering pillars with bulbs, placed at equal intervals. Walking across the bridge that connected the mansion to the mainland was both liberating and terrifying. The height was dizzying, and the bridge loomed over the sprawling city below. For someone with a fear of heights, it could easily be a nightmare.

Owen is going in August. Four nodes. Amsterdam. Madrid. Seattle. Portland. And here: a creek in Minnesota, a man and his mother building a bridge that was designed to be wide enough for two people to walk across together. On the third day the bridge was done. It was not large. Eight feet across the creek, three feet wide — Mina had wanted wider, Karl had made it wider — with a rail that was simple and strong. Mina walked across it first. She stood on the other side and looked back at us.

That’s why we’re now stuck at fishing. A collection of natural and man made lakes, ponds, and streams punctuated the extraordinary landscape brimming with brass, trouts, perch, pike, and walleye. Some of these are passed over by wooden bridges and others by pedestrian suspension bridges. This place is just an integral link between humankind and nature. “Nikki, do you remember when I first crossed that bridge?” Hope asked, pointing at the suspension bridge across the lake. “Yeah, you were so afraid I thought you’ll fall off by yourself.” I laughed remembering the memory.

I never expected to be marrying a billionaire. "I can tell you're thinking of something," he says tugging on my bra more. If I don't tell him now, I'll totally forget and never get the chance to tell him. "When I was a kid, my family used to go to Mackinac Island every year." The seven-mile-long suspension bridge is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Michigan. It is pretty much the only reason people come to Michigan. "One year we were walking along the beach on Lake Huron and I saw an old lighthouse I don't think it is in operation anymore and out front was a couple having a wedding. Just a couple of chairs dotted the sand and then the two of them at the water's edge with the pastor.

The white carpet had no light to reflect, and so may as well have been dark gray. When they reached the outskirts of the village of East Haddam, they slowed their pace. This was the trickiest part of their journey—crossing the bridge that spanned the river. The odd-looking bridge was half metal swing bridge and half arched steel span, giving it two distinct shapes. The girders of the immovable section curved up in a graceful arch, while the swinging section rose to a triangular point many feet higher than its cousin.