Walking along the edge of the city, you stumble upon a quiescent river, nestled within a squat ravine. And bisecting the grey waters of the interior, a line of dots.
Two lines, in fact, enabling figures to pass in opposing directions.
And despite the danger of walking across precarious squares set in water, figures frequently pass from one side to the next. Saving time. Shaving kilometers off their journey from one end of town to another. Taking their chances with nature, with life.
Once at the river, one can see that the blocks are wide enough for two medium width feet . . .
And there are bike rails set alongside, to enable objects with wheels to make passage.
To those from other countries, this footpath might be viewed as a lawsuit waiting to happen . . . on the other hand, the waters are relatively calm.
It is hard to imagine any trouble befalling anyone cutting a course over this stone—even were they to fall into the rippling waters.
Thankfully, this day’s trek passes without incident. For, the wind is biting, the sky overcast, the waters surely frigid.
Nonetheless, there is a temptation to linger. For, the stream is enticing; its contents burble; the river setting is peaceful. It may be just meters away from the bustling by-pass, yet it sounds like country; it feels like a pastoral. It settles a harried soul.
And though figures pass wordlessly—acknowledging the presence of others only by silently stepping to the other line of rocks—this tableaux is a welcome departure. At odds from the busy Korea of downtown Seoul or Daejeon.
This unconventional bridge beyond the everyday fray, that enables one to walk on water, is well worth enduring the chill; well worth risking the mortal slip.
// Notes from the Road
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