There were two sets of gates across the road from where I grew up. I used to visit them as a child and admire the spider webs that decorated them in late summer. I would visit at other times as well; how the stark contrast with the snow made them seem even more solid, or how well-placed they seemed as the first buds of spring began to emerge. When I was small, I would sometimes touch them ever-so-lightly, afraid that I might make them tremble upon the hinges set in stone columns.
It has been over forty years since I first interacted with these gates. Now I call myself a blacksmith and have done so for over twenty years. When I see these gates now, I still marvel over the construction and regardless of how often I have seen them before, I still find new things to admire. The difference between myself as child and myself as a seasoned, adult blacksmith, is that I grasp them with both hands now.