Mrssolentclown
Active Member
I used to be a teacher so have always been a collector of noises and stories. The Clown and I have both written professionally but technically. A couple of days ago we went to check Alouette, it was bright Sunday with a wind that would pierce your bones. In the car park I was not aware of too much noise, all seemed peaceful at our marina apart from the stiff cracking of the flags and a distant hum.
As we made our way down across the hard, the wind and the sound hit me. Plaintiff cries of those poor souls marooned on land their tendons screaming in the wind and smashing on their bones.
As the wind conspired to make me turn away I saw the great lonely greening bodies of these beautiful fish out of water, and it broke my heart a bit. I know it's just the sound of the wind keening through all the ropes and wires but I was sure they were calling out to me that they had been forgotten. Such a sad romantic symphony that for so many years my other half has loved and now I can hear in both ears and in my heart.
Do the boats cry where you are?
As we made our way down across the hard, the wind and the sound hit me. Plaintiff cries of those poor souls marooned on land their tendons screaming in the wind and smashing on their bones.
As the wind conspired to make me turn away I saw the great lonely greening bodies of these beautiful fish out of water, and it broke my heart a bit. I know it's just the sound of the wind keening through all the ropes and wires but I was sure they were calling out to me that they had been forgotten. Such a sad romantic symphony that for so many years my other half has loved and now I can hear in both ears and in my heart.
Do the boats cry where you are?