I am missing some of the magic that used to visit my life. There were wafts of it in the Islands, but the magic is a subtle thing, quiet, and easy to miss. Being in the Islands for the first time is exciting and a bit “busy”. I know they are less than 100 nm away, pretty low in the excitement category compared to crossing oceans and fetching up on a shore that knows or cares little about America. But the Islands are just far enough to make a retired old guy think he is doing something out-of-the-ordinary without actually risking too much, and there is enough buzz from the trip to make it hard for the first timer there to feel the magic. Though it got awful close when anchored in places like Great Sale Cay.
The Thing in PA put me in places where an entirely unexpected kind of magic touched my life. But it had a hard edge to it flowing, as it did, from the dark mystery that defines our human experience. Once back on board Kintala having Daughter Eldest and family around kept the door open. Grand kids always carry a hint of the magic and I felt brief touches. But they were light and quickly overwhelmed by the debacle that was The Bear.
Fact is, for the last many months Deb and I have simply been laboring just to keep going. If I stumbled across any magic I was too tired or too sore to notice. We did what we could and let go of the things that were simply too far a reach. No complaints, but it is hard to feel the magic in the midst of such a struggle.
For now Kintala is what she is, a dated rig modestly equipped. Inexpensive issues are within our reach, mostly bright work and up keep. Expensive modifications will just have to wait and she will remain a dated rig modestly equipped. But there is no reason she can't be a well maintained and pretty dated-rig-modestly-equipped. I doubt the magic cares. (Deb, by the way, is the only reason I know about the magic at all. Without her I would be a dullard clunking through life with listless eyes, wondering what all the fuss was about.)
We are off the dock now, back on the water and riding easy to anchor in a place we know and like. Soon the miles will be passing the keel while we visit and explore other places we know and like. The end of the year should bring a trip back to St. Louis to see those I miss most, anticipation already driving memories of the long weeks wrestling with The Bear far from my mind. After the visit we plan to find our way back to the Islands. We can live cheap there, maybe figure out a way to keep floating a little bit longer. And then a little bit longer after that.
Somewhere along the way I hope to find some magic once again.
The Thing in PA put me in places where an entirely unexpected kind of magic touched my life. But it had a hard edge to it flowing, as it did, from the dark mystery that defines our human experience. Once back on board Kintala having Daughter Eldest and family around kept the door open. Grand kids always carry a hint of the magic and I felt brief touches. But they were light and quickly overwhelmed by the debacle that was The Bear.
Fact is, for the last many months Deb and I have simply been laboring just to keep going. If I stumbled across any magic I was too tired or too sore to notice. We did what we could and let go of the things that were simply too far a reach. No complaints, but it is hard to feel the magic in the midst of such a struggle.
For now Kintala is what she is, a dated rig modestly equipped. Inexpensive issues are within our reach, mostly bright work and up keep. Expensive modifications will just have to wait and she will remain a dated rig modestly equipped. But there is no reason she can't be a well maintained and pretty dated-rig-modestly-equipped. I doubt the magic cares. (Deb, by the way, is the only reason I know about the magic at all. Without her I would be a dullard clunking through life with listless eyes, wondering what all the fuss was about.)
We are off the dock now, back on the water and riding easy to anchor in a place we know and like. Soon the miles will be passing the keel while we visit and explore other places we know and like. The end of the year should bring a trip back to St. Louis to see those I miss most, anticipation already driving memories of the long weeks wrestling with The Bear far from my mind. After the visit we plan to find our way back to the Islands. We can live cheap there, maybe figure out a way to keep floating a little bit longer. And then a little bit longer after that.
Somewhere along the way I hope to find some magic once again.
1 comment:
Rest for three days. Do nothing. Sleep. Dine on a budget bustng meal.
Do nothing. Plan nothing.
The majic will re appear.
Post a Comment