Into the Pit of Remembering

I enjoyed reading this. A delightful recollection!

Hughs Wordquilts


(15-foot Whirlwind Runabout–1970)

Sometimes I fall into a pit of remembering.

It happened today.

I came across an online image of a painting by an artist friend, Jerry Spangler, who now lives and paints prolifically in Florida.  The scene featured a deadrise workboat passing a channel marker, presumably returning to port.  So well executed was it that I could hear the screech of the gulls, the pounding surf, and even the sound of the boat’s engine.

I closed my eyes and fell into the pit.  I could smell the salt air and feel the sun against my face as the wind cut smile wrinkles in the corners of my eyes.  I could feel the deck swaying with the rolling swells.  It was a step back in time, out of urban culture, into the mystique of fresh air and sea foam.

My experiences living in a coastal area began in 1968…

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