as it shugs around the world. I don’t move quickly or finish things and I’m too hampered by other obligations to get out on it. And it’s been a cold six months for the wave spray lash, even had snow cut the air of the street today, it’s too easy to hold off. These petty excuses sting, if I had the means or the true urge I would have gone out anyway or flown to warmer seas. I’m waiting too, not sure why but I hesitate on the bank. Something keeps me landlubbing, the way my path is drafted. But time carries change on its uncaring tick and the water waits for me.