I knew the wee houseboat would enchant the senses. I expected it to be about seeing since the motion of water and birds is continuous. It’s also about hearing.  There’s birds and water murmuring and churning, and there’s also the ropes as they tighten, loosen and strain with the movement of tides, and the sound of the dock as it adjusts up and down. 

I’m reading Frank Bruni’s book The Beauty of Dusk.  He’s struggling with his eyesight, and in that medical exploration, thinks about which is more important, seeing or hearing. He gives arguments for both, and sitting here, I wonder, which would I give up?  At this moment, all senses are stimulated and awake with gratitude as oars of awareness paddle and connect inner and outer tides.