Shooting the Breeze
A December dusk surrounded us. We were clearly in its sights. We were floating nowhere slow. We sat our ground. Though not yet aground, I stood my Mystique's foredeck and shot the breeze with my new crew. While the sun dipped into Biscayne Bay, I realized the day was actually still shooting us, anchored by hook, but also by awe. Our sights not yet setting on the day's and night's delights.
A cooling temp had begun to quiet our "cat's meow" - wind, water and waves now seduced into laying low. No dimming, dour evening hour, our twilighting seascape heightened and brightened our views. While our yellow orb slowly slipped below our sights, an orangey twilight engulfed, overcame us, evenly lightened us as it left. Some may play the day as died. its energy spent; its breeze blownout, its sea becalmed. But it would not be true. The colors were no longer blue when it dived, our spirits soared. It had been no shoot-out or shoot'em up; it was show rime. Show-off time.
Too many shots came our way. Whenever we ducked, a volley of views would appear, then as quickly spash our hearts. Our cameras attempted to catch the culprit, but could only capture the scene,. There was no arresting this view. No one can capture Nature's artistry; she paints our sky with the blink of an eye. Her pallet far from pallid pales. Her brush with death only brought us closer to life. Her darkening day's dusk brightened and enlightened. Our front row seated souls amidst her theatre of the round. A private stage for all to sea, yet a public viewing, only our eyes could catch this dying rebirth.
Who says a day begins on an hour? at midnight? At noon? Maybe a day commences when we wake. Maybe it begins when light shines through us, not just on or to us. Maybe a day starts with a sunset or a sunrise. Maybe it begins with winds. How about when it arrives? Or dives? Or shines? When it waves? Only when it brightens or enlightens? Maybe it is whenever we desire. Whenever we float on a boat in the middle of a bay? Consider a day never dies. After all, even when it goes out of our sight, it still shines on others. Even more vitally, it shines and provides not only a whole new view, but it reminds us light is our source.
Neither the breeze nor an individual is wounded in this shot. Quite the contrary, our wonderment stroked course, breezes can calm, cool or comfort as often as they can be warm, steady, stiff, forceful, stifle or oscillate. Our idle chit chat narrated nature's brush strokes.
Jennifer and Christian joined Karen and I for 6 days on Mystique on Biscayne Bay. Glorious sunrises, sunsets and full moons adorned our twilights and evenings.
Shooting the breeze also happens on the starting line of a sailboat race course. A skilled skipper will maneuver his craft along the line prior to the start to determine which end line is more favored. In other words, the end which will provide the best and most advantageous sailing angle.
They are no escape artists or crooks on the run; they may seem and gleam here today, dip and sink , gone tomorrow, some flash in the panarama. But truth be told and their story endure, they may come and go, but they always and all ways know to reappear right on their time. After all, their timing impeccably natural.