Group K Blog Three

I had always loved spending my evening watching the sailboats return to harbor. Something about seeing them all lined up reminded me of soldiers returning home from battle. In this case the battle was the lake and the reward was a peaceful harbor to return to. Something about watching the ships return in the evening illuminated by the rising moon was purely magical. Some nights before going to watch I’d stop at a local candy shop by the port and buy a chocolate covered pretzel. I’m not too sure how I became so fond of chocolate covered pretzels but at one point in my life I just did. Every once in awhile I’d get a vanilla milk shake with it. Heading to the harbor I’d sit on top of a pick-nick table and watch. The first in were always the fishermen. You could tell they had the hardest day because they’re ships had already been prepared to dock. They wanted off the ship as soon as possible. Next came the sight-seers and tourists. Their boats were a little less organized. Always coming in last were the partiers. Their boats were the last thing from organized. Wine bottles fell off the side, their laughter and voices could be heard when they crossed under the railroad bridge. One night I remember very well occurred a few weeks ago. As ships passed by one came closer to shore and then just sat there. An hour past and it was still there. I hadn’t seen an anchor drop or even a crew member on deck. A man placed his hand on my shoulder and I nearly fell into the water I was so startled. He dressed like a captain and resembled one in every possible way. He pointed out the ship and then he said it. “I should probably get back to my ship now.” He started walking towards the fence and then disappeared. After a moment the ship began to move. It disappeared into the dark along with the others.