It Is A Rock

On Wednesday I completed my 89th sail of the year, launching from Independence Park in Bristol, sailing upwind in a brisk southerly, around Castle Rocks in the harbor mouth, and then riding the waves back downwind. For some reason I seem to be channeling Paul Simon again..

A winter's day
In a deep and dark November;
I am alone,
Gazing from my Laser to the harbor mouth
There through the waves rolling from the south
It is a rock,
It is an island.

I've built a blog,
Of words too long and flighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of hiking pants; hiking pants cause pain.
Their neoprene and their battens I disdain.
It is a rock,
It is an island.

Don't talk of gloves,
I left them on the shore;
They're in my bleeping SUV.
I may not make it to back to the beach
As I cannot beat the tide.
But if I never sailed I never would have tried.
It is a rock,
It is an island.

I have my hiking boots
And my PFD to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my drysuit, safe in it I assume.
I see no one and no one else sees me.
It is a rock,
It is an island.

And a jock feels no pain;
And a Rhode Islander never cries.