Of Sails, Rigging and Wooden Planking

The Lady Washington, a full-scale reproduction of the first American ship to sail the West Coast

There is something breathtaking, a quickening of our spirits,  a deep yearning stirring in our veins, shimmerings running along our bones, a spell cast when we catch site of a Tall Ship: she calls to us--cries of gulls, unfurling wave curls sliding onto the beach, whispery sizzling of retreating tide laced into her voice . . .

When I look out to a tall ship cleaving the sea, there is a courtship of wildness and honed precision that births a third element: a beauty of the two in sea-dance--an alignment, a harnessing of skill in interaction with something that is not tamable; a ship is a marriage of beauty and utility that is required to navigate the sea. It bespeaks the marriage of our own wildness--our innate knowing that we are so much more than we ever imagine ourselves to be--and the clear, precise vision and garnered years of practice it takes to set it free into a practical beauty; into "practical magic," infusing our lives with something tangible--something wet, vibrant and juicy--that doesn't over-run our regular lives, but infuses them--makes them worth showing up for: like coffee, bacon, salt-air and the scent of your lover's hair.

And so . . . in this "salt-sea" wintering, locked away -- for a while -- in the heartland of this expansive country, this landlocked mermaid set sail last night upon the waters of my maiden voyage--launching my blog: Seachange Solutions, with my first post: Deep "See" Fishing.