The day is half over. The laundry isn’t done. The dishes from breakfast are still on the counter. I stand at the sink looking outside, feeling the gentle breeze as it attempts to whisk away my worries and cares, begging me to come outside and enjoy the beauty. What do I do? It’s then that I remember the dishes can and will wait. The laundry can be done later. The day will end soon, and if I don’t go on an adventure now, I’ll wonder later why I didn’t. So it’s off on an adventure to Switzer Bridge.
SWITZER BRIDGE IN SWITZER, KENTUCKY
Every school day for nearly thirty-five years, my alarm woke me prior to the breaking of dawn and I began the routine of a demanding fifteen hour day. Breakfast for the family, off to teach, home to family life, tucking children into bed after homework, supper, baths, and tidying the house…and then grading papers and tweaking lesson plans. I loved it! That all ended several years ago when I retired.
Gone are the days of a classroom filled with a mixture of aromas created by Crayola crayons, Elmer’s paste, and sweaty little boys coming in from a game of tag on the playground. No longer am I leaning over short tables and desks to help first graders write their names correctly, or assisting them in learning to tie their shoes, or managing every need that may arise in the life of a six-year-old in a given day.
All my grandchildren live far away, so they are seldom slamming my screen door, pilfering my refrigerator, or dragging me outside to show me the birds nest they just discovered.
I’ve loved every minute teaching our own three children, our ten grandchildren, my school children through the years, and our twenty-five foster kids. The journey has been rich and rewarding as I’ve taken my sense of adventure and love of travel into the classroom. I’ve sprinkled it all over the lives of our own three, and lavished it upon our grands. But now, the absence of children in my life has left an ominous “quiet” and a deep sense of quandary about “the next part.”
The day is half over. The laundry isn’t done. The dishes from breakfast are still on the counter. That gentle breeze just won! Let’s see…I’ll need my camera, a snack, and a map. Where to? Doesn’t matter. An adventure has begun! I will go to places I’ve never been and see sights I’ve never seen.
To get to the Switzer Covered Bridge, take KY Highway 1262 out of Shallowfield, Kentucky, through Switzer, Kentucky, heading east. Watch VERY carefully on your left. We asked locals and had no trouble finding it.
Take the time to walk away from the bridge and see it from many different viewpoints.
Unfortunately there have been years of the typical graffiti artists who have defaced the property. Look past their work and discover the beauty and craftsmanship of Switzer Bridge. The silence of the countryside and the connection with a piece of Kentucky history will be its own reward.
Abandoning the regular paths, carefully make your way down to the creek bed, Listen to the splashing of water as it gurgles over and through the boulders. Pause to look upward at the massive White Poplar Trees pointing heavenward in their desire to get the sunlight on their faces. Remember that we too, need SON light on our faces.
Examine the massive gnarled roots on those trees planted by the waters edge. Study to be quiet and absorb whatever lesson God may want to teach you as you stand there in quietness – in awe – in reverence.
There are no bathroom facilities, trash containers, benches, or picnic tables at the bridge. You’ll want to take along your own snacks and bag chairs. We spread our picnic goodies across the hood of the car, put down the windows and enjoyed the view from our seats. In this fashion we were able to have both comfort and vantage points that allowed sight and sound of the whole area. Surround sound at it’s best, wouldn’t you say?
It was the perfect day to take my place – outdoors, away from my chores. Sure enough, everything was still waiting for me at home, and I did get it all done. But I did it with a song in my heart.
Let me know of a time when you left your cares behind in search of an adventure – and found it.