I am so grateful for this little piece of the world we inhabit. Sure I get restless about wanting to start traveling by sailboat again. Sure I am itching to explore more of the world and show it to Z at the same time. But when I look over my shoulder and see this scene, I can't help but appreciate the here and now.
Z and our dock neighbor M doing what they love most, mucking around. I never know what these two are going to bring me next -- frogs, dead snakes, blue crabs, horseshoe crabs, earth worms, dead fish, bits of stinging nettle, you name it. They're like little cats bringing home dead and wriggling things as a proud prize.
Their favorite of late is grass shrimp. They spend hours squatting in the shallows, scooping up shrimp, naming them, counting them, they even tried selling them once lemonade stand style.
Ocean voyaging seems like a once-upon-a-time from my own memoirs and a distant promise in Zach's story. But for right now, all I need to do is look at these two, and I can't help but think everything is right in our little corner of the world.