Some time ago, I was privileged to visit Village North, an elite community near the sea, and a friend invited me to his yacht.
We enjoyed a lovely afternoon preparing our lunch, hoping the lobster and onion salad would deter the competing seagulls.
Another yacht captain invited us to join him and his crew for a voyage around private islands, and we returned at sunset.
Many choices,
Few Choices.
We were where we wished to be instead of dreaming of somewhere else because the place was better than the dreams.
Fresh air felt like an angel's kiss.
Suddenly, we were in the light again.
Quiet shadows observed the feathered sky.
We awoke from the daydream and heard the veil of ocean on the sides of our yacht with the soft promise of afternoon.
Golden threads wove through time.
We stood still.
Time stood still.
We moved on.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment