Sketches from the Heart of a Texas Artist: Part III
I had been driving all day. Just as the tires of my Passat hit the asphalt of the Queen Isabella Causeway, the sun sank beneath the horizon, and I watched the bay twinkle under the twilight sky. In the distance, I saw the boat from my sketch, resting at the end of a dock. As I approached the end of the causeway, my windshield began to fog from the salt spray. I rolled down my window and breathed it in. I had entered a new world, one of waves and tides and endlessness.
Once I pulled up to the marina, It didn't take long to get the boat out of the slip and into the gulf waters. I hoisted the main sail and the jib and let the boom swing to the starboard and the jib to port. The sails billowed in the following wind, With the winches set, and my hands on the helm, I had no idea where I was going. I prayed to the heavens and felt the tide push me eastward. With little control over this journey, I allowed the forces from above to guide me. My eyelids heavy, I engaged the boat's auto pilot. I rested at the helm and cradled my head in my hands. Numbness crept over me. I didn't know if that dark shadow was following me, but at that moment I was too tired to care. I closed my eyes and let the waves rock me to sleep.