The Interislander

I am finally out of gloomy Welly! More to do with my mood though than the city. But all is good and the sun warmed my face and made the sea sparkle. I sailed away through the Sounds of rivers, islands and houses perched on the long stretches of mountains. Across the Cook Straight, and then through the Marlborough Sounds of rivers and islands and only trees covering even higher mountains. Speed boats left their trails of white lines behind them. Birds flew by. A young girl pointed to Picton's port ahead with their ferry just about to depart. "That must be where we're heading." She looked at me and offered her binoculars. I took a peek and put the strap back over her pink cap. Imagining how easy it would be for it to slip and fall into the water of other lost cameras below. P