boat lady

Submission notes

This grainy black-and-white snap is my summer study-trip treasure: weathered stone walls (oozing old-water-town charm) slope to canals that ripple like crinkled paper. Our boat lady? Draped in a busy floral jacket, crowned with a bamboo hat so wide it looked typhoon-proof. Language barrier? No match for her—grins and flailing hands: wiggling fingers like sunbeams to mimic dawn canal sparkles, patting the boat’s worn planks like old pals. Her laugh boomed over lazy oar-splashes; we cackled till our cheeks ached. The town’s magic isn’t just its creaky docks—it’s her: a hat-topped, grin-fueled ray, turning the canal’s hush into a warm hug that still sticks with me.