Monday, September 30, 2002

Perfect Autumn Day

There are a few days in my memory that I can pick out as being just perfect. Yesterday was one of those days. It was perfect in a "My Bird Performs" by XTC kind of way. Matt and I had traveled to Rochester to celebrate my mom's birthday this weekend. Yesterday we slept in a little bit, got up and had blueberry pancakes made by my dad. I don't usually order pancakes at restaurants, or even make them myself, since no one seems to be able to make them like my dad.

After my parents left for church, Matt and I washed up and lounged around a little bit. My parents returned. We had lunch (liverwurst, another thing I usually only eat at my parent's house) and then wandered outside to chat with the neighbors. My dad just started a darkroom class at the Community Darkroom. He had taken it about 20 years ago, but was rusty on the latest developments (ha ha) in developing pictures. Part of his homework for his class was to take some black and white photos. At first, only my dad was going to go out. Then we all ended up tagging along down to where the Stutson Street bridge is located on the Genesee River.

My dad got some shots of the new Patrick O'Rourke bridge being built. I finished off my roll of color film and grumbled over not getting any pictures of Matt and I (again). The sun was bright, but not overwhelming. The air off the lake and river was refreshing but not too cold to need a jacket. We hung around the river for a bit, pointing out different shots my dad could take of the two bridges, the river, sailboats, weathervanes, and other odd assortments. I stood listening to the sound of cars rumbling over the steel deck of the bridge. Just as we were going to drive away, a sailboat sounded its horn. I looked at my watch: 2:55 PM. I said, "The bridge is going to go up!" We drove a little closer to the bridge, got out of the car, and headed over to a dock to watch both sides of the Stutson Street bridge open like a dual drawbridge to a castle. My dad's camera clicked as my mom and I murmered, "Cool.. what great timing!" It was a bit of childhood for me. In another year or two, the Stutson Street bridge will be closed and torn down.

On our last stop on the Irondequoit side of the river, my dad and I tramped up to where the new bridge will start. The deck isn't down yet, but the span goes all the way across the river. I looked out towards Irondequoit and breathed in the air. It was home. I could feel the edges of time sweeping away and it was like I had never really left. It was the perfect day.

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