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The path to Stevenson Bridge is an arduous one. Just beyond the bustling intersections of Russell Boulevard and Anderson Road, the westbound path quickly drifts into vast expanses of flat golden countryside, with farms and toppling barbed-wire fences and corroding metal dividers serving as the only indicators of structure and distance. The air is surprisingly sticky during the hot summer months - as one travels further into the countryside, the roads become more twisted and the foliage begins to swallow the roadsides and the still air comes alive with the sound of insects. As you finally arrive at Stevenson Bridge, you don't realize that you are there until you stand at its mouth. If you were a kid who grew up in the area, Stevenson Bridge would be somewhat of an urban (okay, rural) legend.
The bridge is preceded by an arch of foliage. The plants that grow on either side of the road before the bridge rise and curve at their peaks, joining together, creating a canopy of shade that simultaneously provides the mental image of an inviting vineyard while putting the mind at ease. However, this serenity is short-lived. The bridge itself engulfs the senses - it is a shock of urban commotion covered with artificial colors and sharply defined patterns juxtaposed against nature's earthy pastels and free-flowing organic design. The shape of the bridge |
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