It sticks in my memory, the old boat. Just a pile of weathered wood buried halfway in mud by the bay. You could sit in it and watch foam washing in and out of holes in the sandy beach. It was a good place to daydream. I used to go there when life was cruel and depression seized me and wouldn’t let go. The rhythm of the waves sloshing up against the side of the boat were like a lullaby, soothing my wounded spirit. It was my ‘dreaming place’.
Once, a seagull landed next to me on the ancient cull board. I hardly dared to breathe, hoping it would stay there for awhile. Watched it out of the corner of my eye and was surprised to find that it was watching me, too. We stayed there, watching, watching until I felt the bird and I were melting into each other. We stayed there, just like that, until a car drove up behind us. The seagull flew away into the sky with one last glance behind it, as it sang out its haunting farewell.
The folks in the car were talking so much, and so loudly, they didn’t even notice me sitting there, and I was able to listen to their conversation. Funny, it was like looking through a window into someone else’s life. Just a short take. Later on, I wondered who they were and where they were from. They wandered down to the water, then shuffled back up to their car and drove away, radio blaring sad songs through the pines.
Another time, I watched a storm roll in over the bay. It started with distant thunder, barely audible. Then, the wind picked up and smelled like rain. Dark clouds rumbled in from the west and seemed to be racing to get somewhere. A squirrel fussed in a nearby tree, distressed at impending changes in the atmosphere. Waves slapped at the sides of the boat, as if trying to get in. I wanted to see it all happen! The air was electric! In my mind the whole world was dissolving away, beginning to drip like frost over a flame. A water spout formed way off in the distance. It just danced and swayed like some mystical life form over the water, this way, then that. Clouds were cobalt and raging! It was magnificent! I stayed there until long, stabbing lightning bolts reached the shore, popping and snapping like an angry turtle. Wondered if the lightning was looking for me. I would be struck and just disappear in a wisp of smoke. Become part of the storm.
When early fall came around, evening skies were delicious with color. A faint hint of cooler air rolled around in the trees. The abandoned craft was buried even deeper in muck now. I had to wade to get to it, then pull my feet up behind me to sit down. These were some of the last days of the old boat, before it was eaten by a hungry bay, goaded into fury by a hurricane. One day a long time later in the year, I got stressed out and sad. And very, very subtly, the image of that aged vessel became vivid in my mind. I walked down the road and onto that dreamy shoreline, remembering and remembering. Then, as I approached the water, a faded board washed up against my feet. Perhaps the last piece of the old boat, the one that had carried my spirit away to a place of happy dreams, once upon a time.
