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Bitter Pills and Salve for the Soul

God, get me back out on the bay, full sail set and a fair SWly breeze. Can someone take the wheel so I can climb back into the yawl boat hung in its davits and sing a few quiet tunes to the porpoise and the eiders. For lunch, a bowl of fresh lemony ceasar salad chased down with a piece of Mary’s chocolate cake that I squirreled away in the ice box last night. How could it get any better? We sail through dinner unable to help ourselves for the warmth and beauty of the day. Sails are furled as the sun sets and the call of the loons in this secluded cove coax the moon up over the mountains of Acadia. Some guests talk quietly on deck while laughter stirs from the main cabin over a feisty game of cards. And I collapse in my bunk for a good nights sleep, secure in the cocoon of the fo’c’s’l, smelling the salt air from the incoming tide. All is right with the world the salve of sailing heals my soul.

Have a great day. Be well. Do good.


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