Edge

On its Axis and Round the Sun

Awake this early, is my view, might as well rise and take part in the life of the universe. Gave it a fair shot and can’t go back to sleep, so get on with the moment. Coffee, mug of Kona, this one with a little cup of nondairy whitener, Linda buys one called “French Vanilla” -- MIND THE GAP says the mug from London --

-- and here I am in the blue lift chair we gave mama for her 98th birthday, reclined and looking out across the Bay. From here, the ruby channel light the only other sign of life, Red Right Returning, at the channel bend where yesterday two large merchant ships made their right turn north to head for the Port of Panama City. Those ships will be here a couple days and back to sea.

Watching the water traffic satisfies the rare but nevertheless occasional urge to be 22 again, or 34, with their freedom of seeing and breathing nothing but deep salt sea. But I am at sea, the HV St. Andrew. This is almost as good as dry dock in San Francisco, spring 1970. 

Well, nothing is as good as San Francisco. Or Sydney. 

Tass turned 43 yesterday. Their birthdays give life to the proverb a child is someone who passes through your life on the way to becoming an adult. Nothing has ever been more poignant except turning the page and reading the line that says the world is something that passes through your life on your way to the grave. That doesn’t clarify until you look round and realize they're all adults now and you’re no longer a center but centrifugated by earth’s rotation and revolution.

Clear enough that I do see a flashing white light off Courtney Point across the Bay. Ruby and a diamond, then.

Periphery is pretty good, actually. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

T+ in +Time