Seeing Without Eyes

When I close my eyes and think of my favorite things, I see a sailboat skipping along, draped in billowy canvas that pulls her across a stretch of twinkling turquoise water.

I can feel her hull gracefully bowing to each gentle wave that comes to greet her, stirring up a curl of white froth at the place where they intersect.

My ears hum with the monotonous sound of water rushing alongside the hull, broken only by the occasional rhythmic thump as she falls off the face of a wave and is caught by the sea below.

The salty sea mist kisses my cheeks and, with a deep breath, fills my lungs.

When I close my eyes again, she is anchored in a quiet, protected cove.

I see tall, cavernous shelves rising straight up out of the water, iced with bits of green vegetation that cascade over the black rock like the long, unruly tendrils of a mermaid's hair.

I can feel her tugging gently on her rode, while simultaneously rising and falling in the current as she playfully slaps each ripple with her stern.

I hear waves crashing on a distant shore and the song-birds practicing their falsettos under the cloak of the dense island foliage.

The moist air is still and the unmistakable smell of fertile earth fills my nostrils.

Most folks see only through their eyes.

A blind man uses his mind to see. Artists see through both their eyes and mind.

A writer sees things that can be seen by no other. Not only does he use both eyes and mind, but every other sense available, and then paints it with the colors of his own perception.

Through the Eyes of the Beholder

Rumor has it that many a sailor's mermaid sighting was in reality a Manatee. Most certainly these sailors must have been desparate for the scent of a woman because Manatees are not beautiful creatures. Sailors that were out-to-sea for just a little too long, I suspect. Close up, Manatees are prehistoric looking. They really are gentle giants though. Currently there are several of them visiting our marina. One momma and baby pair are particularly friendly and hang out around our dock begging for a sip of fresh water.

Somewhere Between a Rock and a Soft Place

What would I do if I could do anything I wanted to do?

Would I board a rocket-ship bound for the moon,

or just call in sick and sleep `til noon?

If I could change the way I look,

would I have a tail and hair of spun gold?

or don a slinky black dress and choose a shade of lipstick just a touch too bold?

What would have to occur for this to be my lucky day?

While I admit that thoughts of lottery winnings first fill my head;

Can I count myself fortunate enough that I made the left turn light just before it turned red?

If I could be anyone I wanted to be,

would I breathe life into the sleeping soul of Galileo?

Set off on a sailing ship in search of far away lands that I would beckon from the bow with a gruff "Land Ho."

If I were to confess to you that I would turn down the opportunity to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, opting instead for a leisurely bike ride along the beach - would you advise me to extend my goals a little farther from my reach?

Would you consider it a waste of an opportunity if I were to take the middle road - and the person that I chose to be,

looked an awful lot like me?

Bluebird of Happiness

I had a visitor at my office window this morning -just prior to which I heard a clatter of chirping in the tree outside. I turned around at my desk to determine the cause and saw a flurry of winged activity in a nearby tree. Yesterday was a gray and stormy day. The wind howled all day and brought horizontal rain and lightening. Today bore absolutely no resemblance - the sun was shining bright and the sky was as blue as a cornflower without a cloud in sight. As I listened to the excited voices in the tree, it occurred to me that they choose a very nice day to practice their chorale skills.

Before I describe this morning's visitor, I should back up a bit. I have had feathered visitors to my office window before. Just last year a bright red cardinal flew up to my window and walked along the sill while peering in at me. I was convinced that it must have been some sort of sign, so immediately I googled the meaning of a red cardinal sighting and read that it was a sign of good luck. Well, after no particular good luck befell me, I must admit to the disappointment I felt.

This morning's visitor was a bluebird. He, like the cardinal, flew over and peered into my window and looked at me - and I back at him. After he had an eyeful, he flew back to the singing tree, and at that moment, I recognized that all the chattering birds were bluebirds. It was a whole tree full of bluebirds.

Now, I didn't need a Google search to tell me that the Bluebird symbolizes happiness. This time, I did receive the gift from the visiting bird - his visit did immediately make me happy. Thank you, bluebird.

Fancy Fish

While in Vero we saw a school of some crazy, big lipped fish. I have no idea what kind of fish they were or what they were doing. It seemed that they were breathing air as they skimmed the surface and flexed their big mouths. The photograph doesn't really capture the curious moment that inspired my fancy fish drawing.

Moss Mermaids

We got a slip in the Vero Beach Municipal Marina for a few days. Directly in full view of our slip was a magnificent old Oak tree. Its twisted branches gracefully supported long tendrils of Spanish Moss. We watched the moss sway in the breeze. The tendrils took on recognizable forms of dangling mermaids. They were holding onto the boughs by their arms, while their tails whimsically swayed in the wind.