Walking the docks of the Seward boat harbor conjures up all kinds of stories in my mind. Thousands of masts rising to the sky. Where have they been, and where are they going? An adventure on the sea lies just beyond this quiet harbor, nestled between majestic mountains, where misty clouds roll in and out, and signs of winter still cling to the landscape. I want to know their stories....
Paint, weathered from years on the water must have tales buried among the chipping layers.
And, who is this Isabelle? A wife left behind, to hold down the the fort at home? A Mother, a sister, or, perhaps a mermaid?
Oh, the tales these vessels must hold! Of love and loss, fishing and crabbing, whales breaching, waves crashing. I want to know their stories....
As I try to imagine a life at sea, we head back to the campground on the shore of Kenai Lake. The water is calm. Casting a hue of such brilliance, as if someone had covered the bottom of the lake with turquoise and emeralds.
My mind begins to wander....
The old dock washed up on the shore, the burned trees in the distance, the driftwood that has made it's home here, perfectly placed among nature's treasures.
I want to know their stories....
Walking the docks of the Seward boat harbor conjures up all kinds of stories in my mind. Thousands of masts rising to the sky. Where have they been, and where are they going? An adventure on the sea lies just beyond this quiet harbor, nestled between majestic mountains, where misty clouds roll in and out, and signs of winter still cling to the landscape. I want to know their stories....
Paint, weathered from years on the water must have tales buried among the chipping layers. 
And, who is this Isabelle? A wife left behind, to hold down the the fort at home? A Mother, a sister, or, perhaps a mermaid?
Oh, the tales these vessels must hold! Of love and loss, fishing and crabbing, whales breaching, waves crashing. I want to know their stories....
As I try to imagine a life at sea, we head back to the campground on the shore of Kenai Lake. The water is calm. Casting a hue of such brilliance, as if someone had covered the bottom of the lake with turquoise and emeralds. 
My mind begins to wander....
The old dock washed up on the shore, the burned trees in the distance, the driftwood that has made it's home here, perfectly placed among nature's treasures.
I want to know their stories....
Comments
Would love to hear their stories as well. Wouldn't they have a lot to say.
Jeanne