Adam and I often walk along the docks at Whittaker Creek Marina. It's a quiet, romantic spot. It's perhaps the junkiest marina in Oriental, but there are interesting boats, and boats for sale.
Loving a boat is a bit of a disease. Sailors are crazy people. And when a particular boat wriggles its way into your mind and begins to capture your imagination ... watch out.
This massive old bark has caught my eye for quite a while. It's nearly a wreck.
Adam dreams of living on a boat -- even if he didn't sail the oceans, he likes the idea of living aboard in a slip or anchorage and simply cruising around when time allowed. I can see the appeal of such a life, although I can't imagine living without my piano nearby. Even though such a dream cannot become fact for us, we allow ourselves to dream. Dreaming is pleasant. Dreaming keeps the heart alive. I didn't used to understand this. I allowed myself to be only practical, nothing else. I felt dreaming was dangerous, even sad, if I knew the dream could never come true.