Weather . . . or Not
Living on a sailboat, I am keenly attuned to the weather. Unlike land-dwellers, my roof is mere inches above my head with four hatches that open to the sky. I hear every drop of rain, every tap of hail and even snow makes a soft hiss as it hits the decks. Wind is perhaps the most intrusive of all the elements. The rigging taps and hums in light winds. All manner of vibrations and rattles shake the boat in the higher gusts. In storm-force winds, the rigging howls like there’s a banshee imprisoned in the crow’s nest, wailing to be set free. Okay, I don’t have a crow’s nest, but the banshee’s out there, screaming at me. It is an unnerving sound and one I don’t—thank goodness—hear too often.
So, weather is my constant companion, if not my friend. The past two days in the Chesapeake have been full of rain, the dreariest of weather anywhere, but especially on a boat. We’re anchored in Rock Creek, surrounded by houses on the shore, most with docks and boats out front. The scene is lovely, but I can’t sit outside in the cockpit and watch the birds swoop and soar through the trees that press the water’s edge. I can’t listen to the frogs croak and the fish splash since all our hatches have to be closed. It’s damp, chilly and all I want to do is torture my characters with plot twists that will end in heartbreak and tears. There’s not even any wind, just the steady drizzle. I lament the lack of wind because, if there’s wind, at least there’s the fantasy of sailing away from the gloom.
Feeling very put upon, I turn to the internet for escape. I log onto Facebook and check out what my friends are doing on this miserable day. Oddly enough, they’re all just as depressed by the weather as I am. Even though they are in houses and offices, in cars, trains and planes, we all have the same response. And we all try to cheer each other up by sending e-gifts and e-flowers, messages fun and funny. The weather is still inches above my head, but I realize everyone else feels the same as I do. That makes the gray day brighten, just a bit. A spark of enthusiasm hits and I pull up my latest work-in-progress. Maybe my hero doesn’t have to fall out of love with the heroine. Maybe she will reach out a hand when he needs it the most, offering love and support. Maybe I’ll get through this day. The forecast calls for sun tomorrow and a nice breeze from the south. Perfect for sailing up the Patapsco. I can endure and hope.
If you would like to comment on this post, click on the title.