My father has thousands of these stashed in various places like the garage, the boat house, the barn, etc., but a few have managed to linger on the dock in spite of Mother Nature's every effort to nudge them overboard.
This particular one looked like a fish to me. (A fish with a string attached to it, that is.) The way the colors of the string and the weight blended in with the dock also gave me pause.
Gave me pause? Did I really say that something "gave me pause?" How does that work, anyway, this giving of pause? Maybe they thought that saying "caused me to pause" would sound too Dr. Seuss-like. Still. Even so. Better to sound like Dr. Seuss than a geek or a freak, that's what I always say.
Now that I've analyzed this simple sinker to death, the only thing remaining is to share a poem that I wrote, because that's what
By Chesapeake Bay Woman, written in under four minutes while
At the end of a dock
Off the Chesapeake Bay
Lay a fishing line sinker
That wouldn't go away.
Right there on the boards
It would stay. It would stay
through hurricanes and flooding
and Nor'easters too.
The dock would be swallowed
By the tide as it grew.
But the little lone sinker
Stayed put through and through.
You'd think that at some point
This lone little sinker
Would wash off the dock
'twas a clingy little stinker.
Then again, you have to wonder why Chesapeake Bay Woman didn't just bend over, pick the dang thing up and put it away or throw it overboard.
* Have you ever used sinkers for anything other than their intended use?
* Is there something in your house, your yard, or anywhere in your daily travels that you know you should pick up, put away or throw away, yet you don't?
* Fill in the blank: The last thing to give me pause was ______________.