The bridge is certainly a useful metaphor: You can use it to connect ideas and concepts of all sorts. I was thinking of metaphors that were not so useful recently, because I heard rather a lulu on the radio. It went like this: "...like an eyelash on the edge of the sink." You may wonder just what it was that was like an eyelash on the edge of the sink, but we may never know, because that part of the sentence was said before I tuned in. It has me thinking, though, on metaphors that obfuscate further, versus opening up horizons and shedding light. Like the way you approach the end of a tunnel, and you see the arch of light, which then becomes the wide vista of the road and land in front of you.
I guess I woke up on the picayune side of the bed this morning, because I believe this yellow leviathan ought to be more properly referred to as a "bridge layer." I don't think this chicken can crow, if you know what I mean, because it demands that we separate the two components of a bridge: The supports, stanchions or piers, and the road bed or surface of the bridge, the span, the deck. What then, is the most vital part of the bridge metaphor? The span, or what it spans over? The connection or the bridge itself? And do I mean a behemoth, a gargantua, or a humdinger instead of a leviathan?
It's like a single peanut in a blender, isn't it? Enjoy this machine, and don't despair at the early wobblings of the camera; it settles down into something watchable pretty quickly. Note how many people are needed to keep big bridge building Bertha operating.
Until our next metonymic meeting! If you are impatient, you might pass the time here.