Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Riding the ferry to Bridgeport

2/18/17 08:15 on board the ferry to Bridgeport
It was one of those nights when the bright moon light was shining on my side of the bed.  I’m not sure what time I was woken up by the light.  I watched as the crescent drifted across the night sky, getting up once to use the bathroom and going back to sleep.  Tried to turn to the opposite direction, but Ali was snoring.  She apologized and turned over.  It was one of those nights when sleep was broken and I am sitting here on this floating metal machine as we sail across the Long Island Sound to Bridgeport.  Somewhere off the coast of Connecticut there is a Russian spy ship or trawler. I don’t see any boats or tankers.  In the summer, Jet Ski jumpers are ripping through the breaking waves in the wake of the ferry.  Sailboats are lingering in light breezes.  Boats are everywhere.  It is stark outside.  The sky is light blue.  The weather is expected to be beautiful this weekend which is one reason for the crowd on this ferry.  We assume we’d get on early.  We assumed we would beat the crowds.  Take the 0800 and be on our way to Boston.  Seeing this packed ferry, all seats taken… I am anticipating heavy traffic.  The abundance of travelling families is on packed display, with kids and dogs and friends and whatever else they have brought with them for this holiday weekend.  President’s Day is one of those holidays that sneak up on us.  Many of us are not aware that Monday is a Federal Holiday and schools, banks and some companies are closed.  Sharp Clinical is closed.  I packed some running gear since I like to run in new towns and yet curious to see how much snow the area received.  If there is too much snow, I will hit the treadmill for a few miles, three miles. I don’t like running on the machine.  It is boring, facing the same wall, watching a small screen the audio on mute and my thoughts are a circular pattern of; this is boring, why is it taking so long?  Only a quarter of mile?  Here we are.  Waiting to get to the other side.  I can hear the rampant conversations and the lulls. There is laughter.  There is anticipation of seeing Mo Cheeks and the rest of our family.  I want to hit a book store.  There I said it, the man with too many books wants to hit another store.  We sit packed together on this long bench.  


Thank you for reading this.


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