Tobacco smoke, grunts, gruff ramblings, murmurs, occasional raised
volume, wellingtons, raincoats, overcoats and windbreakers. Footsteps
upon tarred passages. Shadows of beings cast on cobblestone walkways.
The stooped, hunched, sprightly and nimble.
It's a rare sight for a pristine boat to be moored at the docks or a
seafarer in uncreased gear, whose presence is devoid of telltale salty
scent. Eyes accustomed to the regular scene spies a newcomer with ease.
8>)
WANDERER'S NOTATION
A trace of superstition still hangs upon them. The past is as tangible
as actuality. They live it, they breathe within dominions of their time
and those once trod by their forefathers. The legacy is both strong and
benevolent. Hence , so is the affinity between generations long parted
and the living present.
The departed have never truly departed from the consciousness of those
still living, though not every name is known but their presence is
persistent. The people here, they're a mite superstitious. Youthful
formative years were liberally imbued with rhymes and odes of folklore
where there is no sharp divide of legend from history. The structured
education of logic, truth and reasoning heap upon indentations first
forged by lore, diligently learned during childhood.
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