My grandfather, mom and grandmother returning to Pamlico Sound via Oregon Inlet. This the day where Pappy
taunted the fish. Inveighed against the fish, as ambassadors of the Sound, for failing to offer him up a real catch.
Shortly thereafter, trolling, he hooked into an Ursus americanus.
On the way to Dividing Creek we pass this store. Old style. Organic. Presumably grew in response to the needs of the local population and the owners. Forty years ago “country stores” were prevalent, nowadays there is the WalMart.
I’ve been snapping a Thanksgiving picture for years. There were twenty people in the photo today but only seven repeats from twenty years ago. Whither the absent?
They are covered up, moved on, elsewhere, otherwise engaged and alone. For better and for worse.
The missing are all missed.
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