A SEA TALE (part5)

Asturias Travel Blog

 › entry 4 of 7 › view all entries
Patrick and Caitlin were married in the small village church in late autumn. Moira beamed happily at the couple, satisfied that her matchmaking had progressed so smoothly and had come to such bountiful fruition. The village women, dark-dressed, watched with tightly drawn lips as the vows were exchanged and now felt a unanimous, unspoken hostility against the young bride. She had been one of them, she would have joined their sorority had she married her sea-husband. But now she was being tied down to the land, becoming this very moment a landowner’s bride, a farmer’s wife. She would no longer have to agonize over stormy seas, her heart would not be carried away by departing sailing ships every time they left the harbour. They somehow felt cheated as they watched her marry her landlubber. They pursed their lips and under rebuking, baleful glares bade her goodbye in the thick murky silence of the old timbered interior of the church as she quietly murmured “...I do.” Only Moira felt her heart brim with happiness knowing that her young charge was now safe, no longer under the threat of doubt and insecurity, her life bound to one who would never venture out into the vicissitudes of the sea, a life for both of them now assuredly rich, content and earth-bound.

Caitlin was pale and immensely beautiful in the silken whiteness of her wedding dress. Her eyes were lowered and her mind far away from the cramped stifling interior of the chapel. Her soul wandered high above the open sea, fluttering like a sea gull, free and without care. She looked at the man beside her, tall and blond with the brawny build of a man of the land. She could smell his scent reminding her of earth and new-mown hay, so different from the salty ocean scent of the other. She felt tears trickling down her eyes as her heart was being crushed, as her finger was being constricted by the bright golden band, as her life was being chained to him who represented the land. She felt like an old ship making her way to the shore after the last voyage, she heard the creak of the anchor as it was cast for the last time, to never again aweigh, never again to venture out. She felt as though she were trapped. She wanted to rush out and run to the sea, away from everyone, especially from this man, her ...husband. She shuddered as she thought of the word. As she steeled herself ready to flee she heard the priest concluding “...I now pronounce you husband and wife!” The last word echoed in her mind as she felt Patrick’s arms around her and heard the hubbub of the congregation. She felt his lips on her own and she wanted to scream as she felt her limbs turn to stone. She inhaled the earthy smell of the man again and felt as though she were being interred in a cold, dark grave, overwhelmed by the land, her heart heavy, bound, irrevocably chained and imprisoned with no hope of liberation. She bowed her head and only just heard the congratulations of the crowd milling around them.
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photo by: spanishrosie