Shayan Afzal

After visiting the Oakland Bay Bridge, which, despite its towering presence, left me strangely unmoved, I found myself contemplating the nature of what truly stirs the soul. It wasn’t until later, when I returned with my girl to see the Golden Gate Bridge, that I understood the profound difference between the two. As we approached the Golden Gate, shrouded in its familiar veil of mist, there was an undeniable sense that this was more than just a bridge; it was a living, breathing entity. The bold red of its arches stood in stark contrast to the gray sky, and yet, it wasn’t just the color that captivated me—it was the bridge’s energy, a quiet hum that resonated deep within.

We stood together at the edge of the continent, gazing up at the structure that seemed to defy both time and gravity. My girl lifted her phone, capturing the scene before us, but the moment was about more than just the view. The Golden Gate was a poem in steel, each line a testament to the spirit of connection and the delicate balance between human ambition and the natural world. As we shared that gaze, there was an unspoken understanding between us, a recognition that this bridge was a symbol of something far greater—a connection not just between two shores, but between the known and the unknown, the everyday and the extraordinary.

In that moment, I realized that the Golden Gate Bridge moved me in a way the Oakland Bay Bridge never could. Perhaps it was the way the fog clung to its arches, veiling it in a sense of mystery, or perhaps it was the way the bridge seemed to pulse with life, as if it held within it the dreams and ambitions of all who had crossed it. Whatever the reason, the Golden Gate was more than just a structure—it was a living poem, a piece of history, and in capturing it, we were not just photographing a bridge, but a moment in time that connected us both to something far beyond ourselves.