The Bridge and the Ladybug

(Seeking Adventure and Finding Unexpected Meaning)

My husband and I visit Ocean Springs, Mississippi often. It’s a coastal city and only about 2.5 hours away from our home. When I realized it was going to be a breezy, not a cloud-in-the-sky weekend, with temperatures around 60 degrees, I told Hubs it was the perfect opportunity to finally walk the Biloxi Bay Bridge, the engineering masterpiece that spans across the Biloxi Bay connecting Biloxi and Ocean Springs.

This bridge is exquisite. It is 95 feet tall and has six traffic lanes, part of US Hwy 90. In 2005, Hurricane Katrina destroyed it, but twenty-two short months and $339 million later, the bridge reopened with a 12-foot-wide pedestrian and cyclist path. That concrete path would be our next adventure.

On a perfectly sun-kissed February morning, we parked in the designated parking area on the Ocean Springs side and excitedly walked to the pathway entrance. My heart was enthusiastically beating double-time! After so many trips across the bridge in our vehicle, we were FINALLY wearing the right shoes and clothes, and Mother Nature was SHOW-ING OFF!

We started up the path. I may have gotten five feet in when the assault commenced. Not a physical assault, but a mighty auditory assault. Mercy! The sound emitted by the six lanes of speeding traffic was a raucous symphony of screaming cars controlled by drivers desperate to get somewhere fast. I looked at my husband and waited for him to glance back with a look of concurrence. He was unfazed. His gaze faced forward, unfazed by the commotion. I stared more deeply into the side of his head, awaiting acknowledgment. Still nothing. I gave up, faced forward and tried NOT to imagine one or ten vehicles (somehow) jumping the protective barrier and crushing the life out of us. 

We walked a couple/few football fields in distance (Sorry, I don’t comprehend distance.) of the nearly 3-mile journey (round trip) when I dismissed my anxiety and settled into the situation, I mean, the adventure. I looked up to see the boundless, cloud-free sky. I couldn’t recall a more beautiful day. It was crisp and windy, and I took a moment to silently acknowledge and congratulate myself on being perfectly and appropriately dressed for the activity and temperature, which is, sadly, a rare occurrence. 

The speeding vehicles to my right seemed to mute when I walked to the left side of the pathway and gazed over the bridge's edge, down at the shimmering Biloxi Bay. There were boats near and in the distance, all creating a wake that made it look like they were dragging white, fluffy cotton ribbons behind them. I was there a minute before my husband said, “That’s a nice boat heading this way.” I don’t know how he could tell it was a “nice boat” because I surely couldn’t see it well enough to assess its attributes. Must be a man thing, I thought before responding, “Pretty.” 

After walking a while, I felt them. My thighs. I am not going to lie; they were burning. This bridge (definitely) has a not-so-delightful incline. I hadn’t fully considered that when planning, which didn’t surprise me one bit. (Apparently, along with distance, I also can't comprehend angles.) As I tried to silence my screaming quads, I glanced down and noticed many different padlocks connected to the bars and randomly placed throughout the pathway. Some were brightly painted, some had initials, dates, or names etched, and some were locked and connected to individual bars or grouped with others. I stopped to investigate a couple of padlocks more closely, but it felt wrong to disturb their slumber. Why did these people choose to adorn the Biloxi Bay Bridge pathway with their special “messages?” Were the padlocks silent testaments of love, memorials to those lost, or maybe just staged to say, “I lived.” Nevertheless, they were an interesting addition to everything that surrounded me, and I somehow felt gifted to have seen them. I asked Hubs, “What would we write on ours?” He quickly answered, “I have no idea, but we’re bringing one next time.” I smiled at his quick response; he definitely had that answer loaded.

We reached the end of the bridge on the Biloxi side and went into the Golden Nugget to use the restroom. Yes, I acknowledge that the Golden Nugget Hotel and Casino seems like a weird and disjointed midpoint to such an adventure, but it was necessary—very necessary. We managed our pitstop time like champs and were soon back on the bridge, now headed back toward Ocean Springs. 

We seemed to be moving faster, and I didn’t understand how that was possible because my feet felt like I had been on a six-hour flight. The swelling was no joke, but we were hooked up. Well, as “hooked up” as possible with smoldering quadriceps and rising biscuit feet. 

Finally, we reached the Ocean Springs corporate limit sign, so I asked Hubs to stop and pose for a picture. He didn’t turn around to face me. He just faced the sign. Was he reading it? I waited a moment, but he never turned to face me. I realized he must have thought that I just wanted a picture of the sign, so I clicked the picture of his back and the sign. “Got it!” I belted. I stared at the picture for a moment and said aloud, to no one in particular, "Well, that's different." 

I skip-walked to catch up to him. It was then that I noticed the hitchhiker on his shoulder. 

“You have a ladybug on your shoulder!” I exclaimed with excitement. 

“Knock her off,” he directed. 

Appalled and bewildered that he would suggest such a thing, I said, “What’s wrong with you?  Ladybugs are good luck. You don’t ‘knock them off.’”

He said, “Oh. Ok.”

“You’re Ubering her to safety!” I added with sincere and sheer delight.

“Ok.” He responded. “We don’t have much further to go now.”

“I know,” I halfheartedly responded, keeping one step behind him so I could observe the delicate little ladybug. How did she get up here? Blown by the wind? We’re near the top of the bridge! How long has she been on his shoulder? She wasn’t budging. She had to hold on for dear life because it was windy, especially on the top of that bridge! Noticing her felt like a gift. Another gift in a day seemingly filled with gifts. When we were about a car length from the end of the path, I watched her fly away; her little wings mastered the breeze. 

I felt so much gratitude as we exited the pathway and began walking to our vehicle. I was grateful for the weather, the solid blue sky, the shimmering water, the picturesque boat traffic, the noisy vehicular traffic, the sacred padlocks, the torched quads, the biscuit feet, the other walkers, the bicyclist, and the Golden Nugget bathroom. But that ladybug, well, she took my breath away. I was in control and planned our day, but I could not orchestrate a meeting with a ladybug in a most unlikely place. She chose to cross our paths on the Biloxi Bay Bridge. Her presence reminded me to be present and ALWAYS make room for magic.

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References:

Fun Facts About Ladybugs

https://kids.nationalgeographic.com/animals/invertebrates/facts/ladybug)

The name "ladybug" was coined by European farmers who prayed to the Virgin Mary when pests began eating their crops. After ladybugs came and wiped out the invading insects, the farmers named them "beetle of Our Lady." This eventually was shortened to "lady beetle" and "ladybug." NASA even sent a few ladybugs into space with aphids to see how aphids would escape in zero gravity.