Crossroad South Between the Chalks

like an adventurer from another land might feel at first encounter with blues music captivated by its power but unknowing of its history or intent … continued

I spent my days working between the giant chalks that held the 70 foot shrimp boats above ground.

We hauled them from the water with thick cables over railroad track below the shoreline  where we gave maintenance to their hulls; scraping barnacles from their underbellies filling their cracked seams with braids of cotton  pounded in with a wooden maul then dressing them out with a couple coats of copper paint before returning them to the gulf waters after a few days of R and R.  

I was an ‘educated fool’ in their midst.  

 In their eyes I lacked common sense from too many books and time spent indoors learning instead of using the connection between hands and body and mind to accomplish work that could be seen and felt.  

But they accepted me and I learned from inclusion into their world.  A world of wonder that haunts me still. 

While there I met several Greek  Gods.  There was the God of Recollection and Mirth who … continued … 



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