Another post, another pile of lobster traps.
I grew up with the ocean in my backyard, and spent my early childhood watching my Papa tie lobster pot knots to the tune of "Oh My Darlin Clementine". We played hide and seek among the rows of traps and, out of season, around the shored up Cape Islander owned by my uncle next door.
So to me, it's not just another pile of traps, or post of wharf pictures. It's a spotlight on some of my happiest, most innocent memories, and they take me back every time.
This particular day I spent in the fishing village of Gabarus.
After 45 minutes or so of driving out of town, the road ends, as it does in so many parts of this island, on a wharf lined with colourful trolleys and tiny shacks, and surrounded by the big beautiful Atlantic.
Sometimes I get a surprise find like this marvelous piece of machinery, just waiting and begging to be photographed.
And always, there's that little little glow in my chest that comes from the smell of salt, the sight of weathered old wood, and the feel of the shore under my toes.
Sometimes I get lucky, and there's a lighthouse I can get to easily...
...and sometimes, I get so lucky as to be reminded of all the things I have to consider myself lucky for.
Love the people God gave you 'cause one day he will want them back.
"Travel light, Live light, Spread the Light, Be the Light"
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