I Get What I Get - February 22, 2014

Each row is different even though the route is essentially the same. Today the cross currents of earlier this week were no where to be felt, wind hushed, fog lurked, tide made gentle swells at island tip, and then there is the rower. At ease today, slow and easy, I found myself kind of shuttling back and forth across the channel avoiding edges, leaving a trail as a skiff tacking into the wind. Ever curious seals and birds conducting their busy lives.

I notice that it never occurs to me when I enter the scull to have any kind of a plan beyond which direction to head in the channel, the rest is fate. Is this what I love about being out there? Not knowing, being content with what is? I hope to remember this.