Widow's Rock Fishpot #2

My girl sits on a rock and watches the small creatures beneath the surface of the water. Some scatter, some stick, waiting out a potential poke from her little finger. The scene is fragile. Her childish naivety is changing. The sea creatures teeter. Is this the hand that will pick them up and take them away, squish them dead? For us, her childhood chapter also teeters as she grows into a teen. I'll miss my child girl. These "Fishpots" are about our imaginings together at Widows Rock, Straddie.