poor bridge...

i had a very involved dream last night but i only remember the very last bit before i woke up. i was traveling, maybe driving, moving somehow, going somewhere (i'm not sure where) when i was suddenly in what looked like a park. i think i was on foot, but i can't remember. i was in the woods and there was an asphalt path and some parked cars in a little parking lot, and the sun was shining. as i turned toward what i thought was a lake it became a river, and on the river was the burned out husk of the end of a bridge. it kind of looked like it had been bleeding. and it was, er, the ben franklin bridge. except it was much too small, and i actually cannot call to mind what the real ben franklin bridge looks like.

i think i've been listening to too many traffic reports on public radio.