On our way

Once again, it's time to leave. It seems like we are always leaving. On our way somewhere, late for something, not quite finished with a project, not ready to start a new one. I guess it is all part of living and working on a boat. Or just part of life?

I woke up in the middle of the night dreaming of land, the light of the half moon bouncing through the varnished hatches, landing on my bed in a puddle of diluted gray. Someone recently asked me if I would ever return to the real world. I am not sure which world they were talking about. The salty spray and burning sun and hard teak under my feet seem pretty real to me.

But I do dream of land...