Dartmouth, England
“Seize the moment,” our photographers have repeated oft times this week. That we did, and in the doing we have learned not to just look but to see.
The skies were not just gray today but beneath that dusky base sat puffs of white like fluffy pillows from the night. The southern coast of England rolled back from the sea, a gentle slope rising to green hillsides fragmented by dry stone walls. A gash in the slopes, one cable wide, led to the River Dart.
Pilot on board, we slid between its rocky shoulders guarded by fortifications from times gone by. We could image the creaking winch winding a heavy chain tighter and tighter until it stretched across the river mouth repelling maritime marauders.
Private vessels of every sort were moored along the river. Red suited naval cadets stood upon the decks of a black hulled sailing vessel. Roads terraced the u-shaped valley, each lined with quaint and colorful houses, all with river views. Details of our tight turn within the river basin were etched upon our minds. Pilot boat and harbour master’s vessel guided us like shepherds, pushing now and then until the lines were fast on cylindrical golden buoys.
Resplendent in his ceremonial robes, the town crier welcomed us to his town and we immediately accepted his invitation. Colorful flowers poured from hanging baskets and trickled down ancient alleys, once traversed by privateers, pirates and people of the night. Residents, bags and baskets balanced on arms as they headed to town to market, greeted us pleasantly, curious about our port of origin. We explored in groups or individually throughout the morning.
And then it rained. In fact, it poured. With our views now constricted by the mist, colorful details attracted our attention. Magenta and purple fuschias, red and golden begonias, all welcomed the celestial offering. Umbrellas of every sort sprouted like spring flowers. Infants, hidden in covered strollers or snuggled inside their mother’s coats, seemed to enjoy the rhythm of the raindrops on the roadways. The wind decided to play along, and the deluge fell horizontally. In spite of it all, the town continued to bustle and we barely paused in our peregrinations.
But, now the day is done. Suitcases are spread on beds and we prepare not just to go to sea but to head to our final port, for tomorrow we must say farewell and return to the everyday world where we will continue to “seize the moment.”
