Claude Monet | Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies | The Metropolitan Museum of Art (metmuseum.org)
Bridge Over a Pond of Water Lilies
Fifth Sister – 10/14/21
…bridges are bridges, she’s not into this metaphor thing, menudo is menudo, a Sunday morning special, a new car is the new car, sit in it with the music on, better speakers than in the house, enjoy it before the grandchildren change the smell to something else. And the “occasional” cranky morning is to be enjoyed, cranky is cranky, soothed by the second cup of coffee…and bridges are bridges, a path built of something, built over some gap, or span, or river or street or freeway, that’s all that they are…all that they are… And she smiled. He could have finished the postcard story right there, leave a huge white blank space instead of just running off at the mouth or pen with his “artistic” diarrhea…hmm, perhaps a tad harsh… Still he could have taken a radical departure, a revolutionary left turn, and allowed the glaring empty space to say what he was going to imply to her, his cranky sister, and to the mythic readers he thinks “may” enjoy what he writes and how he writes. Oh haven’t we all heard that endless times, and he doesn’t even drink! And does he stop here, already writing in the white border on the front, no, of course not, no! And on the front of the card now, she contemplated the bridge over the beautiful pond, yes, even if probably mosquito infested, the lilies are floating upon the still water, a bridge from one side of beauty to the beauty on the other side, the green of Monet’s park all around, the willow trees with the drape of falling, flowing willowy thin branches, the shadow of the bridge upon the water, another bridge, though perhaps one could walk around the pond, a path hidden by the green, the beauty all around, the stillness and calm of the pond also beautiful and a bridge is just a bridge, but, wow…he has done it again!
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