As plans began to solidify for shipping the boat to Florida, our homeport began to seem all the more beautiful. When fate decided we would stay, for now, all hell broke loose on majesty’s Richter scale.
I poked my head out of the hatch and on the empty slip next to us stood a lean heron, all leggy and dinosaur like, catching some fish for breakfast.
As I walked to the shower in the light drizzle, the industrial crane being used to rebuild the marina stood tall above hundreds of masts. Pretty boats seemed everywhere. Tightly secured in their berths, patiently awaiting spring’s reprieve.
Town stood staunchly on the hill overlooking the marina. I felt grateful for it’s quaintness and inherent safeness, for our short walking distance to the grocery store, and our favorite bar.
Daydreaming all the way to the showers I arrive to an empty room, heat blowing fiercely out of the vents. When it was summer, the mirrors were lined with ladies blow drying their hair and applying makeup. No one seemed to walk around naked, so I brought my clothes into the stall as well.
With no one there I can lay my clean clothes out on the bench, undress in peace and look at myself in the mirror without shame. Am I getting too fat? Nah, just that extra layer of winter warmth.
I treat myself to two extra minutes in the shower, which each cost .25 cents. Now that we don’t have to sell everything and move across country, such luxuries are affordable.
Walking back to Sookie the rain has began to fall steadily. I see two eagles above the trees across the harbor. Jumping into the cockpit I grab the binoculars, just in time before they disappear into the forest.
A duck lands on the water like a floatplane, it’s webbed feet like pontoons, wings steady…I guess she didn’t fly south for the winter either.