I decided this morning it was time to do another blog in the series I call “If These Walls Could Talk.” And since this is Labor Day weekend, it made me think of the end of summer, which made me think of beaches, which made me think of lighthouses. So here you go: Looking at this lighthouse raises all sorts of questions in my mind. Where did the lighthouse keeper live? In the lower portion of the lighthouse? If so, I can only assume he did not have a family, because there is certainly not much room in there. I can imagine what it must have been like to live here in winter, most likely all alone, with the cold winds howling outside, and the never-ending waves pounding against the walls. It must have been hard to prevent a slow slide into insanity. And since I would assume the keeper needed to be able to come and go, for supplies if not to maintain his sanity, then how did he accomplish that? I can just make out a tiny set of steps where the base sticks out in front. Did he keep a boat tied up at the bottom of the steps? Did he walk across to the miniscule beach at low tide? Where did he go once he was in his boat or on the beach? This picture gives the impression there is nothing and no one for miles around. Surely cleaning and maintaining the lamps only took a portion of his day, so what did he do with the rest of his time? Did he fish for his supper? Did he have a garden at the top of the cliff? Perhaps there is a path we cannot see in this picture. And perhaps that is where his house was as well. But that meant he needed a way to get to the lighthouse each night, which takes me right back to my earlier questions. While this is a beautiful picture, it raises a ton of questions in my mind, and really makes me wish these walls could talk and answer all of my questions. What questions would you like these walls to answer?
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AuthorI write historical fiction, and I invite you to share the journey to published author with me. Archives
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