The town of Friday harbor was perfectly unassuming as the boat pulls into the dock. A marina full of fishing vessels gently rocking in the waters of midday.
The town was just up the hill, no neon signs of fancy, nor fast food chain restaurants are found here. Instead are the storefronts of the local townspeople. Friday Harbor is a place that is self sustained upon the hard work of it’s inhabitants.
Generations have ventured out to the sea all day, hard working fishermen. I fantasize in becoming part of this hard life, cut off on this island, left to my own devices.
One day, perhaps.
