I went down to the harbor tonight, past the orange-lit statue to a fallen Navy officer in the Philippines, past the homeless person staring out at the water from his bench, past the waves lapping at the rocks along the shore. The bridge was going up just as I reached the end of the pier; a fisherman far away from me lifted his line.
The water was high, besides the tide, already swelled from the tropical storm, perhaps, the weather advisories: "Stay out of the water through this weekend!" (And perversely I now desire nothing greater than to sit on the beach at Rye or Great Island and watch these -- allegedly -- 25 foot waves come in.) Light fog and shipyard lights, a tugboat underneath Memorial. A lobster trap on the water.
I really must stop taking myself out on romantic dates; at the very least, I need to have a camera with me.
1 month ago