Posted at 4:43 am , on October 31, 2019
When a man gets to a certain age, it is time for him to set out on his own, or at least that is what he tried to tell himself as he readied his boat for the journey. He had been sailing these seas with his father since the day he could walk, he knew them better than he knew the land. Of course, where he was going, he would eventually leave his home waters, and that is where the test of his strength and abilities would come in.
His vessel might have been ready but it took a few more days before the winds were right for his passage. It was a warm clear night and the moon had just risen when he was awoken by the thick perfume of flowers in the air, the winds had finally shifted, it was time to go.
Posted at 5:55 am , on October 3, 2019
Elizabeth frowned at her monthly planner entry for August 15th. The heart with the number “5” inside was drawn before the new year, when things were still good. She planned on serving him with divorce papers soon and wanted to keep things amiable until then. A present was just the thing.
According to etiquette expert Emily Post, the traditional gift for fifth anniversaries should be made of wood. Although if you followed the updated modern list, silverware was the suggested token of love. Elizabeth pondered ideas from the internet.
Posted at 3:40 am , on August 8, 2019
Tasha stood on the bow of the boat, sipping from a steaming mug of tea and watching the sun rise. Only an experienced eye could tell that a storm was brewing from the particular hue of crimson creeping across the eastern sky. There was a lot of truth in the saying, “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight; red sky in morning, sailor’s warning.”
She took great joy in attempting to read Mother Nature and Father Neptune’s moods and devoured information on weather prediction. She didn’t believe in tempting fate and always erred on the side of safety when choosing a weather window to begin a trip, but it was fun to try to second guess what was literally on the horizon.
Posted at 12:28 am , on September 20, 2018
“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” she said upon waking, a childhood ritual taught to her by her English grandmother. Folklore stated that saying rabbit thrice on the morning of the first day of the month would bring good luck. She was no longer a child but figured it couldn’t hurt and she could use some good juju on the long drive ahead.
She was playing her harp at a wedding gig in Napa and decided to drive up the night before so she’d be rested before the mid-morning ceremony. The highway was clogged with weekend travelers and she was barely moving. The mechanical voice on her navigation app notified her of another route and she took the next exit to follow it.
Posted at 12:34 am , on August 23, 2018
I stood mid-span of the Golden Gate Bridge, gazing down at the waves far below. The site was infamous for suicide jumpers who kept the Coast Guard small boat station busy year-round. The majority achieved their goal of death when they hit the water at a force similar to running into a cement wall, or drowned from the severe plunge into the frigid, rough waves sweeping out to sea. Less than two percent survived the fall since the bridge opening in 1938.
A sailboat bucked against the current on it’s way out of the safety of the Bay into the ocean, the bow dipping into the waves and then rising back up and throwing great sprays of water towards the couple in the cockpit. It was just one single boat and not a fleet. It wasn’t a race and the wind was relatively light. Still, it brought back memories of exactly 20 years ago that day.