Stories from my Sketchbook . . .
I live in a coastal town. The Camden Haven River runs right past the end of my street and North Haven Beach is only a short walk away. I really like living so close to the water. I like the sound of it and the smell of it and the beauty of it. Even on a crappy, overcast, rainy day our river is beautiful . . .
And because we are a coastal town, everywhere you look there are people in, on and around the water. People paddling, swimming, surfing, kyaking, and boating. Especially boating. There are boats all over the place. They are on trailers parked in driveways (and on front lawns), and in queues lined up at the boat ramps, and idling about in the lagoons, and chugging up and down the river, and moored in any one of our small local marinas.
I like looking at all these boats too―there are so many different shapes and sizes and styles (and names―there are some hilarious names out there . . .’Ship for Brains’―HA!) and it always looks like everyone on these boats is having a simply fabulous time (except perhaps those still parked on the lawn or in the driveway . . . )
But that’s as far as it goes. Looking. I like looking at boats. I have no overwhelming desire to actually be on one.
To be perfectly honest, even sketching these boats from my nice, stable, dry spot (under a tree) was starting to make me feel kind of queasy . . .