
So they said.
“Sure, I like boats,” says I.
We have a small brewery in our little old one block long town. We’ve lived here long enough that the kids I coached at soccer, when they were first graders, are now past college and grown into young adults. Last night, a few of them stood on the sidewalk outside the brewery and, after a few double-takes at my grey and grizzled countenance, recognized me and invited me in to join them.
Sure, I like boats, says I.
Also, this:

link: http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2017/01/where-are-we-going-chiharu-shiota/
Melonseed Aeon with her topsail flying.
photo by Kevin Brennan
Today it’s 97 degrees. In the shade.
But back in May of 2013 wind off the still winter-cooled waters of the Patuxent was almost chilly.
I remember well when these pictures were taken. The day was old by the time we all arrived and launched. Some had been delayed by work or mechanical issues, but the early arrivers content to wait until everyone was ready. The light low as we pulled away from Broome’s Island on the Patuxent. That was the year of the 17 Year Cicadas, and the the water was littered along the way with twittering and buzzing bugs, twitching on the surface in the last throws of their brief and bellicose lives. Many still buzzing in trees along the shore with that throbbing cadence that sounds so Southern to my ears. Big rockfish, already engorged, still half-heartedly rolled the surface to swallow another and submerge.
We were making our way toward Sotterley Creek for the night. A short, easy crossing, and a beautiful evening. Kevin B circled back to check on me, as he often must, and took these wonderful photos as we passed each other. I had the topsail up for the first time, and set unusually well. In the last one, I in my Melonseed and Mike in his Haven crosse a carpet of glitter that quickly turned to gold.
The next day we would spend the morning and afternoon ashore, walking the grounds of Sotterley Plantation. An almost magical day, that seemed more dream than real.
Thanks again for the photos, Kevin.
We’ve had snow in March each of the last four years in a row. Maybe more than that, but four seems enough to recognize it’s a thing. Some of those were late March, down the last few days. I even have photos from an April 15th snow in Richmond many years ago.
March Snow, 2013
Yesterday morning, March 4, we woke up to another one. Not much, just a wet layer on trees and pastures and hills. Green grass and daffodils poking through.
But the Peepers are singing back by the pond, and I hear them when I drive through the woods on the way home from work at night.
It will be almost 80 degrees by Wednesday.