I rowed out the Larkspur Ferry Channel and past San Quentin Prison yesterday and I couldn't help but think about freedom. How could I not? A prison with a view of the water – the San Francisco Bay no less? Cruel or kind? Hard to say.
All I know is that as I balanced my finicky shell on the bay's silvery surface, I felt extremely lucky to be out there.
No calls. No computer. No one else rippling through the water but the occasional seal or a swoop of sea birds. It wasn't long, just an hour or so of freedom, but was fuel enough for the rest of the day.