Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Boats in the Harbor

Thanks to all who stopped by to join in last Wednesday!

Here's hoping some of you might join me in posting a story with a picture for Wednesday Wit and Wisdom.  The challenge is to post a picture, then write a short story or a poem about the picture as a writing exercise.  When you have your story written, you can link up for others to read.  Feel free to also add your picture and story to another link of your choice. The link up is on my WWW page here. This is #29!

I have so many pictures to share with you from this amazing four weeks in Maine, and many tell a story. Here's in one for this week:

I watched them together out on the pier, my son and my grandson. Tommy grew up on my lobster boat, always anxious to head out to check the lobster traps and drag them on board to be sold at the markets. You can see our boat there off to the right. Lobster fishing is all I've ever known, having followed my father's trade when he was unable to continue. The sea is in our blood. I remember as a youngster coming down to the pier to follow my dad onto his boat to check our traps. The blue of the sea and the sky make me smile, and the scent of the ocean fills my nostrils. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Tommy didn't stay in the harbor with me. After his mother died, he went off to college and became an engineer with no time for the lobster boats. Several years back, I fell on the pier and permanently injured my leg and my right arm and have to walk with a cane. My days on the sea are now limited to just a short excursion, and sometimes I take along a family or a couple who have come here to visit the sea. No more lobster catches for me. But I have to wonder about the stories Tommy might be sharing with my grandson. 

One event that comes to mind is the day we were caught at sea in a storm that tossed our little lobster boat about for over an hour. Tommy and I were both soaked through to the bone from trying to keep the boat from listing to her side and slipping under the water. The rain was relentless, coming down in torrents. Tommy was probably only about eleven or twelve years old, but he came through like a champ. I wonder if that is one of the stories he might be sharing. 

Tommy took the keys to the boat with him when he walked down to the pier. I wonder if the sea will call him to take his son out onto the water. Maybe if I hobble down there to see them, I can encourage him. I'd love to see his son fall in love with the sea.

Now it's your turn. Just find a special picture, post it to your blog and write a short story that comes to mind from the photo. Then join in to share your story. Have a happy Wednesday!

Linda Kay

11 comments:

Mascha said...

A wonderful blue picture and a good story - I think, it's a hard job at the sea.
Today I'm joining in again, only not in all weeks I find time to write...
Have a nice day

Carola Bartz said...

What a beautiful story, Linda. I agree with Mascha that it's a hard job at the sea. Nevertheless, it made me a bit sad that Tommy went off and became an engineer. Is the sea still in his blood? I would imagine that sometimes he is a bit wistful about his childhood and I'm sure that he shares his memories with his son. At least I hope so.

I'm joining in today, too. I wish I could do so every week, but it's just not possible.

McGuffy Ann Morris said...

I really enjoyed this. I plan to link up soon. Blogging time has been minimal with the minions here. Trying to keep up with them is fun but exhausting. I am glad you have enjoyed their journey, too. ❤

McGuffy Ann Morris said...

I really enjoyed this. I plan to link up soon. Blogging time has been minimal with the minions here. Trying to keep up with them is fun but exhausting. I am glad you have enjoyed their journey, too. ❤

Blogoratti said...

Really heart warming post. Greetings!

William Kendall said...

The photo is lovely, and does make for good inspiration!

Mary said...

Any and all stories of the sea thrill me - probably because I grew up on the coast of England, looking across the Channel toward France. I know about fishing boats, although most of ours caught crab, herring, mackerel - and there were the sailboats, small in my younger days, now huge and beautiful sailing yachts and cabin cruisers. When there in June I was in awe of such boating 'traffic', and although I enjoyed a few delicious crab sandwiches, I must admit I'd give my right arm for a Maine lobster roll today after reading your sweet story!

Happy week Linda Kay - I posted an 'observation' today - sad, but something I needed to get off my chest so to speak!
Mary -

Mike said...

The sea and me do not agree. Maybe I could get used to it if I went out enough but the few times I have did not go well.

Gail said...

A wonderful story

The Yum List said...

Such a pretty scene.

Amy at love made my home said...

A lovely story and a great memory of your travels! xx

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...