A Grand Memory
I thought of you this morning while walking to work, there was something about the air, I smiled. It made me recall some random end-of-summer day, much like today. You were steaming up the harbor, towards home, from a day of cod fishing. I first spotted you on the horizon while you were rounding the point, just there by the lighthouse. As I rushed down the lane, I could hear the sound of engine puttering growing louder. There were seagulls squawking and hanging about. Like a feathery cloud, they gave chase, each desperately seeking lunch from the fish scraps that were being thrown from your hands.
A final leap, I was there, at the wharf, to greet your return. I remember how the land-wash had this tinge of salt and the watery shoreline was like looking at glass. My reflection momentarily stared back, glistened in the hot morning sun and slowly distorted as your red and yellow punt made its approach. I was nine-ish, playing some made-up game while flicking sea snails back into the ocean, starting their long journey all over again…boyish thrills. As I stood there awaiting your accent, you handed me a rope to tether the boat long enough for the daily catch to be thrown ashore. It wasn’t a good knot, good enough, I wasn’t very good at that. You’d always finish the job anyway, just before mooring the dory to her rightful place once again, anchored just far enough, wading adrift until next time. Oh, how I remember the sun so bright, high in the sky, early that morn, just like today…when I thought of you.
Miss you Pop.
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Beautiful thoughts
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Thank you. Take a spell and look back sometimes. Does wonders for the soul. Thanks for reading.
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My pleasure.
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What a great memory. You illustrated it so well that I felt as if I was there, observing you. I wasn’t sure if it was fiction, or not until later in the post.
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Thanks. Yup, very true and the pic is of the very wharf I wrote about…a little ran down now of course as it was sold some time ago. I played there almost every day as a child. I walked to work this morning and had that thought. 😉
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Great pic, but it must be difficult to still live where some painful memories live.
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Yeah, life is hard when you think of lose. But, in this case and usually when I think of my parents, my grandparents who raised me, they always warm me over. Rejuvenates my soul.
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That’s true.
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Nicely done, Ash. The word “landwash” is new to me, but after looking it up I like the distinction it makes.
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Thanks Brian. Hope you are well and yeah, landwash is native tongue I guess eh? Glad you popped by.
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