From Letters To My Mother. At one point, I went to the big windows and watched for the trawlers coming home; racing to beat the tide, the evening light, the gulls squabbling above them...
This story has moved me, Cecilia! Thank you for sharing your memories with us!
I do love your stories and this one is especially wonderful, although sad too. I agree with how memories work but once you start remembering, it is hard to stop. And it is important to write them down in your words, as you remember them.
I remember (and it was probably the same in New Zealand), that a lot of older fishermen couldn't swim!
That was a beautiful story. The details you have managed to remember and describe from that tendril are amazing. Moving, descriptive and frankly awe inspiring. Thank you so much for sharing with us.
Oh my goodness C- every time I read a new story I think to myself "how will she top that last one" and then you do! These stories, and I know we have only just begun, will one day be a book demanding to be read and you will be asked to travel and appear for people and cameras and places just to talk about your world and your life.
Isn't it magical how in capable hands words make pictures. I guess that's why we have the term evocative. In this case a moving picture, in both senses of the word moving. It began with a still and built frame by frame until it flowed and captured me up with it.