The Mornings After

The nights were sometimes long..always dark..often lonely. Nothing was predictable. It was always something different and new. Skies - lit up with jagged streakes of  fire and light. Silence - broken by loud claps of near and distant thunder. Waves that occasionally rocked and rolled..but most often soothed and lulled in to the deepest of deep sleeps.

While those they carried during the long days returned to their families and homes at night..they were left alone. They and nature's most basic elements - left to ponder and think..to dream and imagine.

They rose - each day - with the  morning sun. The sound of the gulls. The gentle rhythmic lapping of the seas. Decks were brushed and polished. Hulls were scrubbed clean. The air - damp and fresh..warm and cool.

After the nights..there were always the days. Those days when they'd head out into deeper waters. When they'd set their traps. When those they most loved - returned from their homes and their lives. When they could all be together at last.