Here is the hole in which it is supposed to be standing upright.
Here is the nice road that takes me from my mailbox to my home.
Nary a note was left explaining the mishap that wrecked my bridge. No knock at the door with an offer repentance, money, or labor to fix my bridge. Mum's the word. Human kindness is overflowing...
There is a neighbor around here whom I have not met. Okay, there are (most) other neighbors whom I have yet to meet. This is the kind of place where you don't just run into neighbors much. You don't have to see any if you don't wish. You almost have to seek them out if you DO wish. They are close enough to lend or receive aid in an emergency, and far enough to allow privacy otherwise.
But a certain neighbor has been known to take out the mailboxes with his massive vehicular vessel, so speculation has it that said individual might be the culprit.
I will try to muster feelings of charity and blessing for this person who has destroyed my property without so much as a nod in my direction. I will try to remember Mr. or Ms. Anonymous in my prayers and blessings for those who need them most. I will try.
But it is harder to do when my poor little one is worried about the troll who lived under that bridge, and where he will now make his home. Will the larger, meaner troll let him share a space under our big bridge further up the creek?