I’m sitting in The` as I write this, with a piping hot cup of coffee in hand. It’s a blue bird day crisp and cold, really cold. The heater is going with the hatch open, I’m warm and toasty. Chloe is curled up in a ball and refuses to budge. The last of the Northerlies are sending a cold flow of air down the companion way.
It seems like just a few days ago the weather was balmy and beautiful, now the north wind is reminding me that winter is here, last night my gloves and stocking hat came out. this time of year I am usually well conditioned to the cold but this year my blood has grown thin and cold is my constant companion. I’m too skinny to keep warm so piles of clothes get layered on one by one till I look like the stay puff marshmallow man. Winter is one of the best sailing seasons in the San Juan’s and the last chance for sea trials before sailing north in the spring.
Sailing out the tight channel still scares the hell out of me so conditions must be perfect but perfect days come often in Bellingham.
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”