“You holding on?”
“Yeah.” I turned away from my dad holding on to our boat’s hand rail.
It roared and the bow rose out of the water with amazing elegance as if it was a dolphin coming up for air. Beautifully practiced and smooth. The wind rushed towards my face forcing it up my nostrils pushing away all of my body’s messages to exhale. I pulled my worn fishing hat, damaged and shabby as a result of much use, off my wind blown curls and down into my lap. I tucked it in my sweatshirt pocket to the place it sat many times before. I looked around at the beautiful bay. It went by much too fast, the boat practically gliding across the water, for me to take it all in. I had seen the birds, and the wrecked boat many times before but each time I saw them I found something different and unique to make me smile in amazement.
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