Thursday, May 22, 2008

Open Waters

I spend one hour every day riding a boat. Not just any boat, a massive white ferry that can fit over 100 cars and 25-hundred people. I usually spend my time searching for story ideas online, or scanning the white caps for a dorsal fin, or plume of mist from a blowhole. I am dying to see a whale. I also spend time thinking, drinking beer, and now blogging. What better time to practice my writing, when I'm not under a deadline, when I'm writing whatever thoughts come to mind.

The same people ride the ferry every day, and I am beginning to recognize them. Not by their faces, but their body parts. There is one woman who is bowlegged, and she always wears flats, her feet jutting outward at strange angles with every step. One time I heard her talk and felt sorry for the man who sat there, nodding, for a half hour, not getting a word in edgewise. Then there's the man who sits in the same spot in the galley every day, wearing pants that sit too high on his waist, with greased-down, kinky black hair. I see round bellies cut by tight belts, feet stuffed into $300 dollar shoes, or a pudgy, ringless left finger. I wonder what these people do after these long ferry rides, if they have someone they love at home, or are just going to plop in front of the television with another saran-wrapped dinner.

Right now the water looks like an oil painting. Soft waves caress the light from the sky, folding it, bending it into rolling sheets of blues and whites. The dark ragged tops of trees mark the skyline of the Kitsap Peninsula, namely Bainbridge island. They are cutout shapes against a bright sky with swirling clouds. The pattern in these clouds looks like the hard sand that's shaped into ripples from waves.

We are turning into the inlet of Bainbridge Island, where a wonderful person will pick me up, and we'll retreat into our world of trees and castles. The house we live in actually looks like a castle, complete with turrets and a hidden room. When I'm there I feel at peace, its my sanctuary. Every day I'm thankful for my home, for David, that I'm not alone eating a TV dinner.

5 comments:

Travis said...

Growing up in Kitsap County I rode the ferries a great deal.

I can relate instantly with the pictures of the people and sites you see.

I've been riding the ferries for nearly 20 years and I still get on one and my first urge is to run to the front deck and stand there feeling the wind rush past me as we leave the dock and sail off.

Nice blog...welcome to the neighborhood :)

Colleen said...

Yay Kristin! What a great starting off point. I loved the people-watching descriptions. Lovely! It's one of my favorite things to do at the mall.

Anonymous said...

That's a poetic post. You are a great writer.

Eric Slocum said...

So beautiful Kristin. Your descriptions are like eating candy for me. Delicious.

Thanks for putting up a blog. I'm already a fan.

Deborah said...

I love it that you love my neck of the woods! It is so beautiful here in the northwest, and you have always written with such poignant descriptions. "You're one of us, a little different."