The Bridge we crossed when we got to it

I loved the way the sky looked that day. Fantastic streaks of faint smeared cloud on a canvas of deep and varying blue. The shade of the Golden Gate Bridge, 'Internatinal Orange' or orange vermilion chosen for the visually pleasing way it blends in with the land on shore and also the visibility it offered to passing ships was a walk I won't soon forget. I felt easily spooked when getting too close to the railings, knowing very well that people are driven to desperation and take their lives and seeing the railing it wasn't a very difficult thing to do. But still, the cold air rushed across my face and turned my hair into a messy bird's nest in a braid and every one on the trip walked past it in good spirits. All except for one girl who rolled her ankle getting off the plane after arriving in San Francisco. The city where we had to do the most walking and it had to happen there. At least such tragedy struck later on in the trip rather than earlier on.
I took far too many photographs of the Golden Gate Bridge but I think by then I was at my most feverish shutter-buggery and I what little opportunity I had with a camera, a glorious and sunny day and tourist views to photograph. All I can do at the moment is revel in the photographs I have taken, write commentaries and show them off for now. Shackled to my desk to study for my end of year exams.