Grist to the Mill

07 April, 2005

SUSPENSION BRIDGE

The Szechenyi bridge (along with one of several thermal baths) takes its name from a distinguished lineage of Hungarian counts and statesmen. During a particularly harsh winter, Istvan Szechenyi received a message at his home in Pest informing that his father, Ferencz Szechenyi, was gravely ill in Vienna. Since the Danube was frozen he could not cross the river for several days. By the time Isvan reached his father, his father was dead. Istvan went to London in 1832, in "sorrow and determination", and commissioned William Clark to draft plans for the bridge. Adam Clark was asked to direct the construction. In 1849 the first permanent bridge was completed, spanning 375 metres. The bridge is a suspension bridge or, as the Hungarians prefer, a chain bridge. The retreating German troops blew up the Chain Bridge in January 1945. However, the bridge was restored on the 100th anniversary of its inauguration.

That's the background...

The bridge is pretty at night because it is illuminated particularly well. The declining lengths of suspended cable form a long smooth curve lit by simple bright bulbs. It is a gentle swoop of a line illuminated one bulb at a time, like a string of pearls. Good lighting can make an ordinary building look interesting, though. As make-up can transform a person's appearance, the unadorned bridge should be the true measure of its attractiveness and the bridge still looked great by day, without lights. There are other beautiful bridges but the general consensus seems to be that the Szechenyi Bridge is the most lovely.

When I walked across it I looked down as well as up. The Danube, through Budapest, is much wider that the Thames and fast flowing – often carrying driftwood and other detritus. So, when I saw some oval-shaped spots a long way down, on the surface I thought at first that they might be leaves. They were birds – some kind of gulls. As they hurtled towards the stretch of water blackened by the shadow of the bridge, they took flight to a distance 75 meters back and hurtled once again towards the bridge, only to repeat the whole process. I watched them for some time and not a single bird was happy to float into the stretch of water occupied by the bridge’s shadow. At the point where the shadow loomed on the water, the birds took flight further upstream. I crossed the road to look at the water emerging from under the bridge but there were no birds on this side of the river.

I wonder why birds behave indulge in this kind of ‘sledging’. Does shadow recall the larger wings of predators, overhead?

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