Weekly Photo Challenge … Afloat
I was born afloat in more ways than one. In 1950 with my parents recently moved from Essex; on a houseboat I began life, among a community grown from those who escaped the enemy bombing of nearby towns. My dad, a boat builder built our home from a redundant war ship; later he went on to craft a sailing yacht from an ex-lifeboat. So in a sense we were a family afloat. Also, life was also in flux our existence was a constant adventure not always of the good kind. My dad never married my mum, he was not a man to be ‘moored.’ Looking back, he might be considered an anarchist or a punk but he would not have been comfortable with any label. He was a floating spirit, not suited to the traditional way of life. When my mum and siblings moved to house nearby, my dad didn’t join with us for long. The transition was not as easy as we hoped but we soon all embraced the stable live and enjoyed living in the local community. We went on to have families of our own.
For my part I enjoyed the land and the stability it offered; but now that the children have all flown the nest; I look back to the afloat-ness and the space between the shore and the sea. I remember the sense of adventure, the days we spent afloat without a care or commitment. So while I will not move back to the river I can promise myself to remain afloat and keep the feeling of impending adventure.