WHERE THE RIVER WINDS SOUTH AND THE GULF CREEPS TOWARD IT, HERE, WHERE THEY TOUCH, SOMETHING HAPPENS.
THE SALT AND THE FRESH MEET AND THE WATER TEEMS WITH LIFE.
IT IS LIFE-GIVING.
WHERE PIECES OF EACH, THE RIVER AND THE GULF, MIGRATE INTO THE OTHER, LIFE IS FORMED. NOT SIMPLY TWO PARTS ANYMORE, BUT A NEW BODY. A NEW LANGUAGE.
OUR LIFE. OUR BODY. OUR LANGUAGE. WE ARE MADE BY THIS PARTICULAR PIECE OF WATER.
This water was here before us and it'll be here once we're gone. And we're made by it. In it. On it. Of it. We're still being made by it. It runs through us. It courses through our veins, pulses through our organs and out our tear ducts and off our lips and pushes up through pores into salty, sun-stained skin.
It tells our stories. In a language of its own, in a language we have always understood. It tells all of our stories. The ones our Mamas told us and the ones, by God, you better not dare tell our Mamas.
We are Oyster City Brewing Company.
Made by the water.