The Fin Fell Off My Paddleboard and Other Metaphors For Our Thirteenth Anniversary

jen groeber: mama art

My fin fell off my paddleboard. There was a gentle breeze, an overcast sky, and right next to the rock where the cormorants pose, I dug my paddle in the water to turn my board into the inlet and felt it spin in place.

I switched sides with my paddling and the rotation reversed. I was at a loss.

I had a Plan. I had Goals. I was planning to paddle all the way around the island.

And now I was rudderless, finless, turning lazy circles in front of the bemused cormorants. I spent 25 minutes slowly spinning around the cove in search of my fin in the shallows. From the sky I must have looked like a white and red pinwheel with a Momkini striped center.

It wasn’t at all as I’d pictured.

By the time I’d lugged my finless board back to the house I was positively dejected.


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