You can find me by looking in the lupines, walking where the roads falls off at sea level. I'll be hanging out with the rocks, buried underwater by the salty shore. I know this port as well as anyone, and better than some, because I visit in all seasons. When the cottage residents run off for safer shelter, I keep coming for the winter storms and wild winds. I've been haunting these wharves like a good old ghost, showing up from evening to midnight, anytime after the fishermen pack up and head home. I don't need a welcome, really, the sound of waves clapping is enough of a greeting. The old familiar bay is still breathing me in.
June 20, 2017
Hampton, Nova Scotia