Dusk falls ‘till no more light from which to read. Time for shut eye—the wind and sun from the day’s passage allows sleep to come oh so easily.
Anchored in Pentwater Lake alongside the quaint village of Pentwater. American flag on our stern rail flaps in a stiff southern breeze while our sailboat spins and swerves on anchor line. The anchor line squeals as brisk wind tugs tightly. Around and around we go. First one direction; then another.
No alarms or sounds of others stirring. Save a dog’s bark on distant shore. An occasional early morning fisherman seeks the “Big One” as they motor past. My head still hugs my warm pillow. Eyes shut tight. Rising is more difficult when I’m rocked within my quilt cocoon, warm, dry and safe. Even when sunlight peeps through our hatch overhead and through the companionway, I turn over and pretend it’s still nighttime. Just a few more minutes of sleep, and then I’ll rise and shine.
I relish this vacation time of no worries or appointments to keep—no place we have to be or tasks we have to do! Isn’t that what a real vacation looks like?