The soft breeze sweeps past my face, along with flakes of wood, off the rotting wharf. I see a flicker in Dad's eye, as he realises he now has something to do these holidays- build a new wharf. The sun glows brightly, reflecting the mountains and trees off the newly refreshed lake, which had been hit hard by rain clouds. Along with the giant whitebait net that my dad had forced me to carry the whole way, assuming he would be doing all the work. (Just noting, he was strong enough to carry it himself.) Even though it was he holidays, it didn't feel like the holidays to me, seeing as Dad forced me to come with him to the lake, along with the whitebait net, which was mentioned earlier.
Oh my dad!
Oh my dad!