Legends from our own lunchtimes

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Another Sunday

If it wasn't an inanimate lump of metal it would be hard to believe that Mr Perkins didn't delay us deliberately, pending the dawn of a perfect day.

When we (eventually) rose this morn, that day had arrived.  Everything in the village was smiling. The sun was the sort of sun we watch people here sitting in all day and shudder, so there was nothing for it but to slide the roof back and see what that is about. We thought we'd just simply soak up the gloriousness of it all as they do, although in a small concession to our Australian-ness I did wear a hat and our underwear remained just that.

Before we could leave there was a plethora of decisions to be made, with our usual complete lack of plan the thought briefly occurred that we perhaps could accompany Saskia to Nancy, but in the end it was lack-of-plan "A" that held sway and we turned left in direction Strasbourg leaving further decisions for the appropriate time.

With temperatures like a warm winter's day at home and the sky clear blue we slowed from our normal six kilometres per hour to something less than walking pace, as we putted our way through the forest and the farmlands with semi denuded copses opening up distant vistas we hadn't seen before. All the while a gentle shower of golden leaves fluttered down upon us in our topless state.

Eventually though we came to the canal junction, and there was no escaping it, the time had arrived. Decision time. The spell was briefly broken while we faced reality for a few moments. Once again though, lack-of-plan "A" came up trumps, and once again we turned left, this time in direction Mittersheim, where everything quickly fell back into place, except now we had lakes as well as forest to glide through and not even the merest hint of breeze to break the reflections. Finally we could take no more and so it came to be that tonight we are moored betwixt farmland and forest, ready for anything tomorrow may throw at us.

Last year, while accompanying him on Manatee, Graham had a particular way of describing days like today. After a long day at the helm, he'd sit back in his easy chair with a glass of something refreshing in his hand and a big grin on his face. After a minute or two of silent reflection he'd sigh.

"Ahhhh" he'd whisper to himself, but loud enough for the world to hear,
"That was magic!"


No comments

Blogger Template Created by pipdig