Our hotel room was perched on the corner of the hotel with windows overlooking the Stramongate Bridge. My first thought was that traffic noise might define our hotel experience, but cars and trucks quickly faded to the background as we began to watch the bridge, the river, and the parade of Kendalians.
A person can anonymously meander back and side streets for a while, but ultimately to cross the river one must go to the bridge. A bridge concentrates people. It also provides a long vista, a place to pause, take a breath and gaze.
It is a meeting point of nature and city, a brief interlude of water, air, and birds within the grid of buildings and traffic that structure urban life.