My grandchildren spend a lot of time on their devices.
I often think they miss so much of life, with their faces pressed to a screen.
I’m waiting for them now, sitting here in one of my favourite places.
I’ve always loved watching ships come and go, imagining where they’ve been; where they’re off to.
I wonder what time it is … look down.
I wonder what the weather … look down.
What ship is due … look down.
What fish can you catch … look down.
I’d love a burger … look down.
Are the kids on their way … look down. I can’t see a text message.
“Hi Grandad,” I hear. Look up.
“Oh, hello son.”
“Great weather,” he says. Look up.
“Oh, yes, it is.”
“Great fishing. I caught a blue whaler here once,” says the grandson.
“That’s nice. I was wondering about fish,” I reply.
“I’d love a burger Grandad. They do a smashing one here at Nathans,” he says, helping me to stand. Look up.
“Oh, right. I was wondering about dinner.”
Cop onto yourself, old man. Who is really disconnected here? Look up, or you’re missing out.