Nesting

The days are getting shorter.

In some deep part of my brain, inaccessible to my awareness (I like to think of it as an iPhone app that runs in the background), a calendar reminder is going off.  Way up high in my consciousness, this alarm manifests in a non-verbal way, as a desire...


...to pull in
      ...to finish
             ...to get ready for bad weather
                    ...to endure,
                            ...to be cozy.

Summer is over, such as it was here in Seattle.  The numbers are in:  we had a total of 3323 minutes of summer this year, if you define summer as being above 80°.  For those of you without a calculator handy, I'll do the math for you:  that is a total of 2.3 days.  For the entire year.  As compensation, I find myself trying to identify with Brittany on s/v Windtraveler, in the Caribbean with goosebumps because the nighttime temps are dropping below 80°.  Sadly, I am not having much luck.

I wasn't ready for this - I still had another 3 weeks of summer in me to spend, and now I can't...  I have to pack them away for next year.  Will they spoil?  I don't think so...  I hope not.

Despite the coolness, I must say that we had a very enjoyable sailing year, off the dock more than we have been in recent years, with the great majority of it under sail.  But I think we are done, now.  So, it is time.  I need to go out and double up our docklines.

Storms are coming.  Winter storms.

I can feel it.

Nesting