THE BRIDGES
I have often admired bridges. I’m not an engineer but I like checking out the design of a bridge. I especially like the bridges that span the the Firth (mouth) of the River Forth near Edinburgh. I think they’re beautiful. Can a bridge be beautiful?
If you look closely at the cover of Restoring Time, you’ll see the Forth Rail Bridge in the background.
Journal Entry 2017.
‘We made our way to South Queensferry on the Firth of Forth to see the new bridge. Very elegant, I think. The other two bridges remain. The red Victorian engineering marvel, the Rail Bridge. And the Road Bridge—a wire suspension bridge that had to be replaced as the thin wires, which make up the very thick steel cables that hold it up, are fraying and they haven’t yet (at that point) decided on a way to repair it.
Worrying.
A lot of establishments situated within sight of the bridges had within their name, two bridges (an inn for example) and would, I assume, now have to change to Three Bridges. The official name of the new bridge is the Queensferry Crossing.’
A South Queensferry street
I suppose some people have opinions on bridges. Well, a couple of my characters do. In Saving Time: Community Chronicles Book 3, Rory and his younger brother Murray, have taken a trip back in time. They both view the bridges quite differently.
‘They travelled over the Queensferry Crossing and Rory glanced sideways. Murray’s mouth hung open as he fixed his gaze on the red tubed, Meccano Set-type structure to their far left. Murray would see the angles and geometry of the Forth Rail Bridge. Rory recognised how indefensible these bridges were, and it only needed a troop of good militia to block one end and it would be theirs. Well, three troops, he’d take all three bridges at once. Explosives would be helpful too.
History recorded, in the same year as The Stock Market Crash, a spate of terrorist attacks worldwide had severely crippled many major cities of the world. Newspapers were scarce and digital information no longer accessible. What had been the fate of the Forth bridges? They were a logical target. Rory glanced again at the elegant, white pillars and the straight, thick, steel cables as he drove past them on the newer road bridge, the Queensferry Crossing. His own thoughts had been speculative, but maybe someone had done it—destroyed these intriguing structures.
“You know when they finished the rail bridge in 1890, it was the longest cantilever-spanned bridge in the world, at that time?” Murray’s voice echoed off the window as he continued his gaze to the left.
“How do you know all this stuff?” Rory screwed up his face.
“I read.”
“Well, I read.”
“Yeah, but The Art of War by Sun Tsu won’t help us much today, will it?”’