My father was a pilot in WWII, and he loved planes, and he loved boats. He built our first boat in our garage. I loved to sit on the steps and watch him work, and I loved to motor on the Des Moines River in Iowa and then, the Mississippi. Over time, we bought boats and rode in the Atlantic and the Pacific, so childhood memories flow on days and nights sitting on the front of the boat being carried along on dreams and song.
Perhaps that’s why the San Francisco bay area ferries are so thrilling, relaxing, and calming for me. I’m carried, and this is the one week of the year that seems less touristy than other times. Yesterday, I traveled both ways, Sausalito to San Francisco, and back, on a lightly filled boat. I felt cared for.
When I bought coffee, I stood next to a little boy who didn’t have enough money to buy what he wanted. I signaled that I would pay but the man behind the counter said, “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. It does cost $2.00.” It brings tears to my eyes even now. There’s such goodness in the world, and then after the child left, the man said to me, I almost told him he gave me $3.00 not 2, and gave him back a dollar. Later, I saw his family on the boat, clearly visiting, planning what they were going to do.
I pause here for breath, and suggest you do too. My day was like that all the way, beauty, kindness, and grace, and then I came home to the news, news I knew, and there’s sadness too. I don’t want there to be such corruption in the world. I knew there was of course, and …
I’m looking forward to Nancy Pelosi as president, because if we truly are a democracy, as I hope we still are, both Trump and Pence are tied and have to go, and she is next in line.
Meanwhile, I’m still rocked and carried on the waters of the bay as they connect to the ocean, all oceans, and this precious planet, united as One.
Riding the Ferry
Skin, the sea