Sharks Teeth By Carter
The day teeth was cool hung air so thick you could almost sparking in the dim sunlightThere were days, early in the this one, where it seemed there was more water in the air than in the bayWe had beached the boat and stepped out on the recently cleared spit of land. The ground light dusting of white sand over an under of dried black It looked like a recently frosted chocolate cake, though the frosting was spread a bit thin for my taste. The ground was but we from experience that it was full of crab boles, and would be underwater at the super tico. Mysteriously, to us anyway someone wanted to build a house We come to spots to look for artifacts. Our beach, our summer , had been a fishing camp for as long as anyone living could remember. The oldest to travelers coming down to the edge sealining up to their wagon with salted to take back homeOld decaying cabins still lined the beach. Rotting nets, hung out to in the last centurydecorated their weathered . Their stories in our minds. The fishermen who, tanned and wrinkled from sun and salt hauled their nets of splashing to cheers from the waiting crowds The bounty of the sea lightened everyone's hearts and the smell of roasting filled the camp Women fanned themselves from sento. Children in the shallow of the baywas a scene we had noted out youngstersart imaginary bridge to a we would never know.
What is one way the narrator connects the present moment to the past
By describing imagined
By the land as if it were food By details about the environment
By recounting his youth
