warm beer, cold wind

Oh to be on the water with a fresh breeze and a beer in my hand.  I’m uploading pictures from the past few months, begrudging having a job, and struggling to cope with the world in which we live.

It’s hard not to feel a little depressed.  I’m sick of hearing nonstop propaganda designed to sway votes one way or the other.  I’ve already voted, but I can’t escape the non-stop barrage.

chasing the schooner adventuress:

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I known escapism might not be the best answer, but I just want to get back to the real world again.  And what is the real world anyway?  Is it a winter wind that blows straight to the bone, or is it worrying about the effects of the latest FBI investigation and how the masses will react?

schooner zodiac under shortened canvassOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Is it tapping on the barometer and watching it fall a five points?  Is it hooking down the first reef and sweating in the outhaul?  Or is it the latest warning of potential Al Queda and attempts to mettle with the election.

A reefed tucked into the largest mainsail on the west coast:

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Is it falling off the wind just a hair, easing the sheets an inch or two, and feeling the hull lift out of the water as she spreads her wings and starts to fly.

Able and Alcyone

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Maybe it’s getting dowsed from the waste down while straddling the bowsprit and bagging up the jib.

We make our lives so comfortable.  Climate controlled to the point of total numbness, instant access to infinite media consumption, and stockpiles of food that will kill us.  But we miss out on feeling human.

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