“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
Ice on the dock again this morning. Thankfully, no wind to speak of and a strong ebb tide that had us moving along at a healthy clip of about 7 knots to the Golden Gate. It was just too fun, just too beautiful to stop.
We kept going under the Gate and the nearly full moon played hide and seek with us along the way, dipping below the headlands, then reappearing to paint a silvery trail on the water.
The occasional rise and fall of a porpoise slipping over the waves, fishing boats going far too fast, coming far too close, and then disappearing—a dot of light into the dark blue.
We rowed to Point Diablo, about a mile or so out the Gate, turned around and headed back, checking out small waterfalls tumbling over the hills and into the bay, remnants of the rain we’ve been having.
We made it back to the dock just in time to see the dawn.