The Gut (South Bar - part II)

When I had shot all there was to shoot at Polar Bear, we got in the car and started back toward Sydney. I was lamenting over my newly persistent desire to see Polar Bear from a boat when it was suggested I stop in at my uncle's. We were greeted at the door by his lady friend, who informed us that while he wasn't currently at home, he would be back soon; he was gone to get some stuff ready to go out on his boat for the day.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

While we waited, I took my camera for a stroll in the backyard. Yup, this was my backyard until I was nine years old:

Where you see grass and a fish house, I see backyard baseball, lobster boils, snow forts, ski-do's, and skating on "the gut".

That body of water you see is a cove, enclosed by a sandbar that is now being slowly but surely worn away. I've known it my whole life as 'the gut" but only in the last few years learned that this is a local term. So much so, that I can't find it in Merriam-Webster, but Wikipedia's got my back.

Another look:

and then into the backyard of the neighbours who, naturally, are relatives and who had no problem with me traipsing through their property as a child, much less as an adult. It's a good thing, because you couldn't have kept me away from their now-decrepit barn. I was in love!

 

In the other direction...

So much love for this place!
Finally, one more shot before answering the call I had answered from that very spot so many times, so many years before. "Terri! Come on! It's time to go!"