Burnside Bridge on a foggy morning

Pictures taken this past autumn at Antietam National Battlefield remind me of why I am eagerly looking toward May 28, and my return to full-time Rangering (for the Summer, that is).

Every season reveals a different aspect of the beauty of the Antietam Creek Valley.  Here's the historic Sherrick Farm bathed in the fog rolling up from the creek.

In the misty distance a familiar structure begins to take shape, Burnside Bridge.

At Antietam its easy to find a slice of privacy, on a perfect morning, of a perfect day.

One of the most commonly asked questions by visitors who go on the two-hour ranger tour is;

"Why didn't Lee blow up the bridges?",  you know, like they do so often in the movies.

There's a full palette of answers, including:

Lee didn't come to Maryland to alienate the people of Maryland, but to win them over, which is not done by destroying their bridges and their livelihoods.

Lee used the bridges to his advantage, as choke points for the Federal attacks.

Lee didn't have the luxury of an enormous surplus of black powder to expend in the demolition of these bridges.

and, finally, the simple one...

These bridges are nearly indestructible.

And aren't we glad of it.

 

One of the cool things about the Spring and Autumn fog seasons at the park is that we are caught smack between the fog rising from Antietam Creek and that which rises from the mighty Potomac just a mile and more away.  As the sky clears to brilliance the lifting fog leaves behind ragged curtains of vapor hanging in the air, betraying the locations of those two waterways.

Looking up the "witness tree" on the Union side of Burnside Bridge.  Visitors always ask if there are bullets deep inside.  I can only imagine that there are.

Through the mist the Antietam rolls slowly toward the Potomac River to eventually lend its waters to the bay and the ocean beyond.  I have to wonder if a hundred and forty five years ago some floating piece of wreckage from the battle drifted down this creek only to end up on some beach on another continent, leaving some beachcomber to ponder the origin of so foreign an object.

Come ponder for yourself, its your park, year-round...

just north of Sharpsburg

Ranger Mannie