The sun is setting behind Pickney Island after a glorious day in the marsh.
The front that passed yesterday left drier and cooler air behind.
Carol and I walked a couple of miles beside Port Royal Sound and saw dolphins and a bald eagle, a big and impressive bird and the first I have seen on the island.
I biked down to GANNET in mid-afternoon. Carol is driving us to North Carolina tomorrow for a few days to visit her family and I wanted to see if much rain had made its way below. It had not.
I enjoyed being on the little boat. I want—I need—to go sailing, but that is not going to happen soon. I hesitated before writing in the last entry about my hernia. Unlike many, particularly the young who think that they must share everything in order to obtain illusory validity from others, I don’t have any desire to share everything. I make a determined effort that what I write is as true as I can write, but I know truths I do not share, and I only wrote about the hernia because I have not sailed for months and legitimately some might start to wonder if the old man has given up. I have not. I can hardly express how much I wish I were at this moment hundreds of miles offshore.
If I remember correctly Tennyson wrote his ‘Ulysses’ when he was young. It is a great poem and a great feat of imagination. He captured an aged spirt that accepted he was not what once he was but could still strive.
Here is the end of the poem.
I suggest that even Tennyson never imagined a Ulysses in his 80s.
And here is a photo I saw this morning of those who have paid $50,000 to $100,000 to stand in line to summit Everest. Think what you will. For myself I do not like to stand in lines.
Tim Robinson wrote: Time is the great amnesiac.
I have written that life is redeemed by moments of joy.
Seek those moments.
L’Chaim
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