The Yard

Stargazer's mast lances a cobalt sky. Spring sunbeams cascade brightly off the curve of her pushpit and....




....rejuvenate the faded orange of her outboard motor cover. She stands, like a spider crab, out of her element on the tawny gravel of the hard, supported by six improbably spindly brown legs.




Out in the creek garrulous black headed gulls command the deck of a sea blackened hulk.




Ashore, I busy myself.....




.....shipping our new tiller.




Around me the saltings are alive with the bustle of refitting.




The diesel roar of the crane rises and falls - grunting with the exertion of launching and landing boats, like a cantankerous weight lifter.




My arms windmill to burnish Stargazer's topsides and the reflection of a Nauticat is slowly revealed from beneath the rime.




Silence envelops the saltings as the gulls, the weight lifter and I together fall still and drink in their timeless tranquility.

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