The image taken during the recent sail to no where. I have reason to believe I am as much at home at sea as any of our species has ever been. Am I at home there? Am I at home anywhere? I do not know.
So to some extent I define myself though my cyber contacts with you.
I should be old and decrepit. I should be dead. I am not. I am still trying to understand what is going on and what I ought to do.
Two emails may be revealing.
The first was an invitation to talk to the Hilton Head Plantation Yacht Club.
The Hilton Head Plantation is the largest of the thirteen gated communities on the island and where I live.
I made a response and thought about it for several days, believing it to have been too rude.
I just reread it and think it not too rude.
I know these trees.
I know these hills.
I know this water.
I know this sky.
I know this light.
I will carry them with me.
I wrote those words about New Zealand’s Bay of Islands but they are true of any place you have known and loved, and South Africa is as beautiful a place as I have seen.
I also thought as I first wrote those words that they had the sound of an Indian chant.