Postlude

Last night, John went for a walk to the park with us. Annie told him all about her bridge, and so we went there straightaway.

He tested it first.




I had Piper in one arm and the camera in the other, which was probably a good thing, because it kept me from taking a boatload of pictures of one of the most fun bridges I've walked across.


The mystery is this. Near the bridge was a rangy hobo's campsite, plastic bottle pit and all. Several one-walled makeshift shelters were scattered about, for, I assumed, windbreak during camping.


I lowered the girls and Piper down to John before scrambling down myself, and we followed the crickbed to the road. Much further down we found a pump with one hose end lowered into a deep pool. We followed the other end to these apparently abandoned greenhouses




and several more of these, which bore no evidence of camping but seemed a derelict's artwork, scattered with a liberal hand along the crick's path.



We left when a car pulled into an unseen drive, and Annika started bellowing out that she was scared.

To be continued, when we poke our heads into the greenhouses and discover marijuana growing inside...