In 1999, acting on impulse, my brother and I decided to take our mother to Newfoundland for a visit. It had been almost fifty years since we had last visited our mothers outport where she grew up. It was also the 50th anniversary of Newfoundlands becoming part of Canada.
In 1950, I was six and my brother was five when we last visited our mothers childhood home. At that time, Irelands Eye was a vibrant, quaint fishing village hugging the rocky shore of a small, enclosed harbour. There was no electricity. There were no roads, no automobiles, and few signs of automation of any type. There were oil lamps and wood stoves in the homes and mere footpaths between the aggregate of small communities on the hilly island, also named Irelands Eye. We can still see and hear the inboard motorboats, putt putting into the harbour, hauling their days catch of fish. The image of hardy fishermen with pitchforks hoisting and tossing the codfish up to the stilted platforms from the bowels of the boats is still quite vivid. The aroma of salted, drying codfish, lingers still.
What I remember best, of almost half a century ago, was going out with my Uncle Fred in his boat to fish. That particular day, we were huddled together and lashed to other boats, just outside of the harbour. I can still hear the lively gossip between my uncle and the other fishermen, above the rippling and splashing of the waves against the hulls of the boats. I remember the boats heaving periodically, on the huge gently rolling waves. My Uncle Fred had only one arm, but amazingly, he could do everything as if he had two hands. He could even roll a cigarette and light it.
【读文章记单词备战英语六级】相关文章:
最新
2019-11-23
2019-11-23
2019-11-23
2019-11-23
2019-11-14
2019-11-14