Osler's Razor

[You can and should check out the video for this song here]

Woody, I apologize for the gloating emails, but... crikeys, Minneapolis is just an awesome place to live.

For the past two weeks I have been taking sailing lessons on Lake Calhoun, one of four natural lakes near my house. The classes run from six to 8:30, which has been a remarkable time of day here-- incredible sunsets, light but steady winds, clear skies, and temperatures in the 70's. Sailing, like skiing (and, I suspect, golf) would be worth it simply as an excuse to be outdoors in all that.

But, luckily, it is more than that, a feast for the senses. What engages me the most is the sound of it, which sometimes is simply silence (full sails, calm water), and other times the elements of life: water rushing beneath me, the flap of sail as I come about, the rigging tapping the mast, all of it building up like a gentle song. We usually sail in pairs, which makes it a duet, and adds laughter (especially at my cloddish skippering) to the mix.

We sail in to the little port at dusk, as the last light hits the little restaurant on the shore. These northern plains have red/gold sunsets, different and more gentle than what I remembered in Texas, and they linger like a perfect meal.

So I wave good-bye, slip on my fleece, gather up my life jacket in one hand, and walk out past the little restaurant and the quiet, happy people there looking out over the red and the gold. I walk down the path under arching boughs, and turn toward my car, but I can't quite yet, so I pause and drink it in, drink it in like the fresh water I have so long thirsted for.