Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Last Dance

This is the time of year when we are never sure which time out on the boat will be our last time for the year. Spring seems light years away, and we're trying to squeeze the last drop of autumn goodness before retreating into our winter semi-hibernation. We have our fleece and woolens and hats on tight, but we're also barefoot and wearing sunglasses. The wind is blustery but the sun still warm and the Chesapeake is blissfully quiet.

We aren't wandering too far from home, as our nighttime nav lights are busted and it's too cold to spend the night on the hook without a heater. Most recently we just meandered up a local river while roasting a turkey in the oven to stay warm. We dropped the anchor for turkey lunch in a quiet little cove surrounded by fall colors.

Naia was so thrilled to be underway, she didn't care about having to be bundled up or only getting our for a few hours. She lights up when she sees we're untying.

It always seems so perfect, and I always wish fall could last until late April. I realized the other day that part of my sour outlook on winter is because it's such a dramatic shift in our rhythm and lifestyle. Normally we live an outside life, and we go in when we need something. We need food, we need to sleep, we need clean towels or sunscreen. And then suddenly we are living inside and going out just because we need that breath of fresh air. We scurry out like little squirrels emerging from our tree hole. We layer up and have a walk or a time at the park, but then after the required outing time, we scurry back in, noses pressed against the glass, wishing for long warm days again.

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