Lobster Pots

The harbour is all neat and tidy, well as neat and tidy as a working harbour can be. All the lobster pots have been stacked and are contained behind wire barriers. The ropes have been coiled and the nets packed away. I like the order of it. Though won’t the season begin again soon? There was a refrigerated lorry waiting for something as I walked by. What fish would that be then? I know nothing of these things – herring, mackerel? There was a mist as I walked. It felt more like autumn than spring. A large man or woman, I couldn’t tell in the gloom. sat on a bench looking at the sea.

Two large carcasses of trees lie South beach, one is completely hollowed out like a canoe.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.