Wind-blown and Sun-dried

This post is about a feeling I got on the way to work tonight. But to get there, I need to fill you in on the day. We took the boat out shortly before noon today. It ran great, and the sun was bright. The wind was hard and crisp. But it was 80 degrees, so it wasn't cold. We parked on the sand bar, chatted with friends and watched dogs chase frisbees. We returned to the boat ramp at absolute low tide. After a few fumbles at getting the boat straight on the trailer, I found myself driving under big trees, the sun fluttering between new leaves. When we got home, I went through my post-trip ritual, first hooking the earmuffs on the outboard and running all the salt out of the motor. Then I washed the boat. After a nap, I re-covered the boat and hid it away under the carport. Alison had dinner ready shortly after sun-down. And that brings us to tonight.

The wind went away with the sun, I guess, because on the drive to work, I noticed absolutely still palm trees underneath the orange street lights. There is a peace tonight, marked by that stillness. Kids are in their livingrooms playing videogames. Dogs are asleep on the couch. Everything is as it should be, including my sunburnt shoulders. I tried to think of a song that was fitting. BNL - Baby Seat. Great song, maybe my favorite of late, but the one that might be playing is "Damn it feels good to be a gangster" by the Geto Boys. In Office Space, that song plays as Ron Livingston finds an inner peace. Yeah it's corny. But it works. Gangster-me under the palm trees on a hot night in March.

Thanks for dinner, Alison.