Written March 16, 2015
As the song rings through these dark waters, we’re together and together we get used to the tedious work that glorifies this hour. The sun will disappear and the chills of the wind start around us, but it won’t undermine our laughter and fears at pedal boating for the first time.
We haven’t seen each other in months and what day could possibly rival this reunion? Here are two faces by my side and singing along to the cold melodies of the Rumors album in passing waves and the falling leaves that sink below where turtles tread lightly, as not to wake the ghost there. At one point we talked of her, silencing ourselves as we come to the bridge and lose our bearings, attempting to pivot the red bulk from underneath. I don’t know if either of them believe in the spirit, but it gives such a somber thrill that I am careful to never mention her name aloud, if she could really take us away and into the wind.
It’s a wonderful Sunday to be aboard a dusty little schooner as ours, and wouldn’t you love to join us? We’re not much of a crew but we’re moving along and that should be enough conviction. Onward we move as we further strengthen the blessings of four years behind us. There sure is something here that brings us back; I’m convinced it’s more than these waters.