...I still have time to row in the morning, even tho' it is late in the season.
Now that school has started, if I want to drive to work, I have to leave at 0745; this morning, I didn't back from rowing until 0745. Eselin and I left at 0805 and arrived on time.
At this time of the year, we are pushing off the dock while it is still dark.
The river is like a silver ribbon and hisses as you cut through it.
I see the faint blush of the water as it is touched by the first rays of the the morning sun.
I feel the first hints of warmth as the light gains strength, like gentle kisses on my skin. The breeze is like a caress.
I smell autumn's bounty, the scent of dill, as hints from the surrounding gardens drift over the water.
I feel the strength in my arms, and my legs, and my back, as the oars in my hands whisper to me the stories of those who have travelled here before.
I feel sorry for those people who are sitting bumper-to-bumper on jammed streets. I wonder if they ever feel alive?