Walking on Water

One more story.

This is from before I was born.

It is something my mother told me.

My dad bought the house before they were married in 1965. He built his first dock. It proved lower than it should’ve been because soon after, the water level rose. About an inch of water covered the dock’s wood slats.

They still walked on it, and from the road, people driving by thought my mom and dad were walking on water. Some people even pulled off to the side of the road to stare. (Though to be fair, in those days many people stopped just to watch the magnificent sunsets.)

Now, my parents’ marriage was a disaster from the start, but I’ve always loved this story. I like to imagine them, newly married, young, walking together out there to watch the sunset. The colors were more vibrant then with less air pollution of course. Oranges, reds, purples, and blues shimmering and changing in the sky and reflecting all around them where they stood.

Dad built a new dock and had to build several new docks over the decades. None were ever again too low, but I used to wish that just once the water would rise too high, and I’d be able to walk on water too.

Thanks for reading.

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