My San Carlos Bay

Forty square miles, give or take.

On either side of the Causeway

I am on it, or in it, more than 300 days a year; for the past 10 years.

My backyard.

Never the same, not always easy; at times impossible, always good.

Tonight, mercurial water and slate grey skies.

That time of day is hard to name – way past sunset, dark; but it’s still light out on the water.

Almost too far past sunset, to still, be a part of today.

A box of mirrors.

Whose sheen has long ceased to function well, a reflective, liquid pool, stretching to the horizon.

Soft grey clouds smeared thinly across clear skies, still slightly cyanic to the west. 

White light from a crescent moon, just rising, over my back, across the island.

That dull sheen, only the ocean can get, and only when all is still.

“Not a creature stirring, not even a mouse.”

Dead calm. Slack tide. 

The calm permeates my brain and finally, I take notice, that all is different, all is calm. 

I smile, a big dopy smile, which could never be held back.

Step onto liquid sliver, glide across it.

Tonight, against all odds.

She is mine – and only mine.

Not another human, on the water, in my 40 square-miles of San Carlos Bay.

Only a grey, slick, box of liquid grey; all mine

Best Paddle Ever.

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