Clear sight

With packing comes a deluge of memories. It’s impossible not to sort through cupboards and boxes without finding long forgotten treasures which bring the past to life.

Some items are too precious to ever throw away, no matter their disrepair. Dad’s old binoculars were carefully rewrapped and stowed with the photo albums. I have two shiny new pairs on the boat with greater magnification and better clarity, but I wondered as I nestled the worn leather case in its bed of linen whether I would ever see more clearly than I had as a child with Dad patiently adjusting the focus until the world became bright and clear.

Somehow I doubt it.


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