We've enjoyed our sojourn in Brunswick but the time has come to resume our voyage. The past several months have been wonderful. Visiting family, mixing with friends from our old neighborhood at a mini reunion, making new friends here at Brunswick Landing Marina, enjoying a fantastic holiday, attending our nephew's wedding, fixating on the politics of an exciting presidential campaign, watching our meager fortune sink through the abyss of avarice into the depths of despair; all this blended with that one constant in our lives: the ubiquitous work on the boat.
There's nothing quite so wonderful as the smell of fresh varnish; the Zen-like, transcendental feel of repetitive scraping and sanding; connecting with the essence of the wood; bonding with the ancients, as you, like they of old, apply coat after coat of fresh varnish. Every now and then, wood, just as we, needs a periodic rejuvenation; a rebirth, a stripping of old, cracked coatings designed to keep out the elements, to protect from harm, but that no longer does. Thus, this mundane backbreaking task, becomes a metaphor for life. Peeling off the no longer useful protective layers that mask our inner beauty. Wow! Thinking this way, of course, really means that it's time to go!
We plan to cast off as soon as weather permits and my older brother, Ken, arrives. He seems to be enjoying the wonders of a northern winter so much that he can't pull himself away, or maybe, he's stuck in a snowbank someplace. Anyway, we expect him to arrive soon. Then we'll set sail for points south along the Florida coast, maybe head as far south as Miami before heading back to the Bahamas in preparation for visiting the Western Caribbean.
Jekyll Island
Jekyl Island, now a Georgia State Park, was purchased for $125,000 in 1886 as a vacation resort for the Vanderbilt, Morgan, Rockefeller, Goodyear, Field, and Tiffany and their well heeled cronies.
Poem By Pat
Southern Town
Old black men on bicycles
Ancient carriage houses, waiting to be important again.
Grits, pickled sausage, cream potatoes, stewed tomatoes and okra
Wooden floors that undulate like waves of the nearby ocean
Moss, like icicles, draped on trees.
Strangers who stop and say hello.
Old black men on bicycles
Ancient carriage houses, waiting to be important again.
Grits, pickled sausage, cream potatoes, stewed tomatoes and okra
Wooden floors that undulate like waves of the nearby ocean
Moss, like icicles, draped on trees.
Strangers who stop and say hello.
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