Now this, the boat below, I could spend seven days on, a short swim from shore and lazily tanning on the deck, sipping drinks, taking in the sights.
Harbors are such a peaceful place. Sailing out of the Santa Cruz, California, harbor into the wild blue yonder, with rows upon rows of boats patiently waiting for their owners to arrive and take them on another wet wonderland adventure,
sails dancing in the sunshine, providing dappled shade for those below.
Shawners gazing out upon the wonders nature has to hold,
boats with their sails blustering in the wind, flying creatures that also happen to float perfectly well, hazy mountains,
smooth shores along the ragged cliffs,
Walton lighthouse with the beach just beyond to one side, the harbor on the other,
the wharf, a sight to see, buildings suspended over water,
the perfect gazing spot,
a safe harbor for barking seals.
A more romantic place for me, I could not imagine, except perhaps the beach Brando proposed to me at - less than a mile north along the shoreline.
Sailing, my favorite place in the world.
My view as I sat across from my family.
My Mom doing the Titanic with the boys.
Doing our own version of Titanic. Yes, I did the arms.
Gazing upon the water, looking for a jellyfish. One will come my way.