One Last Cast
Davis Bay, British Columbia
There’s a wood carving of a dwarf with a fishing rod set out on those old pilings. He’s hooked the back of his pants on his back-cast, and has been pulling for many years now.
When I was really young, growing up on this coastline, I remember driving past this pier and seeing tugboats moored, and this certain section was in use.
Time changed, and renovations and downsizing occurred. Time washes in waves along these parts. Industries grow and fail. Families move in, raise kids, who move away to find a place in the world, education, some greater perspective. Some move back to raise kids of their own, others just bump into each other across the world in random places and play the ‘do you know…’ game.
When I see the old pilings along the coastline, I see my family’s totem poles. I see the passing of my history, of my family who were fallers, fishermen, tugboat captains: people who lived on float houses in logging camps tied up the inlet.
One day some kid will look back and remember a time that a wooden dwarf sat perched out on these old pilings, hooked on the back of his britches, in what looked to be forever, but was only for a time.
This is the power of photography, and the beauty of a world in motion.
Pictures allow us to pretend to freeze time, and to look back on what was. But never mistake the photo for living, for our live takes place in a world in motion.
As it has been, and as it will be, for as long as we’ll be trundling about these shores.