Today I was sitting in my writing perch watching a little boat bouncing on the waves of the ocean. Now I have never really particularly wanted a launcha (a Mexican word for small fishing boat,) but when I was a young girl I always wanted a horse. I spent my summers in an ancient willow tree reading every horse book that existed. Well at that moment from my window that small boat bouncing across the horizon became a stallion galloping across a vast blue field. Suddenly the lowly launcha had a whole new appeal to me -- (never mind that I get sea sick.) I could escape into the wild blue Caribe, battle with giant sea monsters, and explore the edge of the universe! I could ride like the wind out to the vast ocean of solitude. However something tells me that you are probably supposed to have a "fishing buddy" for safety reasons which would totally ruin my grand illusions. I can just picture someone yapping away and desecrating my blessed silence. I remember my Dad telling us kids that we had to be quiet if we wanted to see any animals in the woods. I can't remember how he worded it, but he conveyed to me that nature was like God's church and deserving of awe and reverence. And so the ocean has become one of my meeting places with God. There is a scripture that says, "Thy way is in the sea and Thy footsteps are not know." So in a way I guess that little launcha symbolizes my avenue of escape into the deep. I am already contemplating what color I will paint it and what I shall name her. There is a sign in one of the little Mexican restaurants I eat at that say's "Respecto la silencio por favor." Which is kind of hilarious since there is always a television blaring out cheesy soaps in Spanish. Nevertheless maybe I can make such a sign for my vessel!
