Inner Harbor, manifests

Circa 1850's ish, I review the vessel manifests that float through the Harbor. All the while, posted up against the window on the 18th Floor of the Marriott, conducting business. The writings are mapped out on the wallpaper. The front desk was elegant enough to line our ice bucket with Genesee red eyes. The print is drying from my ink quilled pen that was plucked from a Baltimore Raven as it trolled trash from the Harbor. The fact that my historical icon, Frederick Douglass, walked these waterways in a Jesus way, leaves me speechless and humbled. To be in the same air space and cypher as such a great Patriot is centering me in humility. Furthermore, for the greater good, we transcribe the manifests for commerce and opportunity, putting faith into action and helping fellow peoples. What are we doing if we aren't helping each other to prosper? Dishing and diving through the layers of exports and imports that call to the mind the intermingling of all peoples. The necessity of building bonds and floating hope downstream, just like the mighty Patapsco River as it dumps its payload into the Harbor. The Ships, Barks, Brigs and Schooners all scuttle together and dock to a swift trot of the crab dip and stuffed shrimp on the menu at the Rusty Scupper. Bellied up to the bar, exchanging stories like currencies.

Noted: My port of call is to visit the Isaac Myers Maritime Park after I eat a scrumptious supper at the Rusty Scupper or perhaps, Phillips. Maybe, also, scampied shrimp soaked in a crab dip. Maybe, also, a Natty Bo to wash down the sea fair as my wife and I stare at the sea vessels docking along the dinghies.