Farewell to my mermaid of the North coast!

When on Monday I returned to Fistral bay because of a family bereavement,I felt that the place had gone “up market”.Not that is wasn’t before time,don’t get me wrong,but it just always had that time warp thing in my head as a younger man like it would always be Fisty!Well,everything changes,that is accept the very thing that I looked and listened at,the Atlantic.Why,that hadn’t changed at all,it had that essence,that Poseidon ,that roar from its bowels ,that come to me ,if you dare.

Walking out to the cribber,the old lifeboat station ,the place where the launch was a leap of faith self,I had a mental explosion of sea faring memories,the tides dicing with my synopsis ,playing poker with my feelings tossing my Waldorf salad of emotions through the ringer of my tears. It,do know,it did me oh so much good,that roar,that rush of tidal energy,that cocktail of foam Cointreau with a dash of lemon and sea salt ice.

So,I returned from the funeral home and left a memory of my sister with the “mermaids of Great Western,and the slopes of Lusty glaze ,nestling in her bosom of hope and finery”

Fairwell my lady ,my mermaid of the North coast.

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