And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, excerpt from The Day Is Done
That my last post ended the way it did wasn’t meant to indicate despair or anything…I just realised as I was writing it that even that soul-baring post was a form of procrastination, another devious way of putting off the more important things that, unpleasant as they were, really had to be done. So I shut down and started the pack down.
I’m, oh, maybe 75% through it now…spent the last 3 days doing nothing but. I’m glad I did; it was a pretty big job. Until this morning, it didn’t even look like I had accomplished anything! I moved 13 cubic feet of books, 7 large storage chests of fabric, craft materials, and paper into storage, looked back into the ‘den’ they’d come from, and was confronted with overflowing shelves of stuff that didn’t seem to have thinned one bit. Seemed like it would never end!
I would have hated doing this in a mad rush, say, the weekend before departure! With 7 bags of rubbish taken ashore, and 50+ books put on the yacht club’s ‘library’ shelves, and all my books, paper, and fabric hoards put away, I am flooded with relief and calm, at last. I only stopped because I ran out of rubbish bags, cardboard boxes, and plastic storage boxes, but I don’t need too many more of these, and am confident that I’ll get the rest sorted next weekend. If I get everything done by next weekend, I’m going to play with some last few paintings and bookbinding projects, knowing that I can just throw these last few things into the hold, put the paints and other perishable things in a box for artist friends, and steal away.
The newfound calm allowed me to just sit, at daybreak, and watch these dolphins playing in the creek. There’s a mum and bub pair, and then a third adult dolphin, and they were hunting, but also stopping now and then to just slide over each other and…well, it looked like play to me. The little one sticks very close to his momma. They come lurching and blowing up the creek quite often, at night or very early in the mornings.