Next up in the list of flaming hoops to jump through: Personal Narratives. More soon, folks. I’m off to do my happy dance for a day or three. Keep reading, this adventure isn’t done yet!
‘Till next time.
SWIFTLY out from the friendly lilt of the band,
The crowd’s good laughter, the loved eyes of men,
I am drawn nightward; I must turn again
Where, down beyond the low untrodden strand,
There curves and glimmers outward to the unknown 5
The old unquiet ocean. All the shade
Is rife with magic and movement. I stray alone
Here on the edge of silence, half afraid,
Waiting a sign. In the deep heart of me
The sullen waters swell towards the moon, 10
Twelve knots of wind is my ideal sailing weather. Back when I sailed The Dread Pirate Roberts (a 12ft dinghy called a Laser) twelve knots of wind was the most I could handle while still staying upright. Too much more than that and I would capsize. For me, twelve knots, has become a bit of a mantra for finding the balance between my limits and flying.