Between Dawn & Dusk on Race Day

Ballou and I were at the beach at day break. The air was cold (by West Coast standards) and restless. A heavy rain storm was forecasted and I couldn't tell if these clouds indicated it had passed us by or that itwas on its way. Regardless they cause me to look forward to today's windy race with trepidation. Dudn't bother Doberwoman, though. She goes in the surf after a stick as often as I throw it for her.

It's not so much about the forecast: I've learned that weather is never as bad as they say it's going to be. The trepidation largely comes from my recent lack of intensity about sailing & racing. I am attracted to ideas, activities and people who energize me with their intensity. Lack of intensity is a dangerous thing, a worrisome and disquieting sensation to which always I try to pay attention. It suggests inattention and carelessness. Onboard & afloat, that's a dangerous mental condition to have.

On the same beach, at the end of the same day, after a very satisfying & well-sailed race, I give thanks into the sunset. This was an intense day. As I approach life after yachting, each of these days figure to become more and more intense.