Preparations

Lots to do, but, Hey, preparing is part of the fun too.  We are eager to get settled aboard Sirius and to make it our home.  We recently sold our much loved Flicka and moved "up" to a big boat...Ha, from 20 feet on deck to 24 feet.  It really is amazing though, how much difference 4 feet makes.  We now have an enclosed head with a real sit-down toilet and holding tank, and galley with a gimbaled stove with oven.  No more having to tie pots onto the stove to keep them from flying about the cabin.  I now have standing headroom and really appreciate not having to bend my neck at odd angles to keep from bumping my head.  We will attach pictures later when we get to the boat.  For now we are still in Alaska and will be heading down to the boat on the Chesapeake Bay in 4 days.  Friends Reg and Jetty have kindly let us tie up to the dock at their house.  I am attaching a picture of Sirius at the dock.  Behind her you can see Reg's ship Rainbow.  Here is a link to a photo description of the building of this remarkable sailing vessel.  http://www.georgebuehler.com/Regsboat1.html

So why the blog title "Approaching the Horizon"?  This seems to be something that one really can't do, like going into the future.  No matter how quickly you rush into the future you always find yourself "right now."  Similarly, moving toward the horizon, we always end up "right here" with the horizon somewhere "over there."  For me, the hardest lesson to be learned traveling is to be "right here now."  So much the better to be able to learn this by being in ever new places.  Yikes!  Never mind.

I'll end for now with a favorite Robert Frost Poem:

The Sound of Trees

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.