harboring fugitives
They were rogues.
They were rebels.
They were mutineers on the corporate high seas.
They were non-retirees plundering carefree fun in the sun...in the middle of the workweek.
Okay, I confess: it was less a case of plundering and more of an encouraged and fully authorized absence as part of a trial run with Flex Time at Dennie’s work, in which employees may opt for a four-day week, laboring ten hours a day instead of eight, while benefiting from an extra day off.
But, aye, matey, what a sorry pirate shanty that be. Yo, ho, ho...sanctioned fun, not e'en a bottle of rum.
Somewhere out there, Captain Jack Sparrow is weeping.
The residents of our humble home, however, are not. On Dennie's first Flex day, only three days after our successful lake outing, we carped the heck out of that diem. We loaded up the usual gear, I settled into the backseat with the pup, and the three of us headed out on Maisie’s maiden voyage to the harbor. Though it may pale to the other thrills of our adventure, I am pleased to report our chronically carsick baby did not vomit once en route, and we never made a single one of our usual preemptive stops for her to get out of the vehicle and walk around a bit. Well done, Maisie!
Though much has changed around the park since our last visit, the bay itself remains as beautiful as ever, sparkling in the summer sun, beckoning to the seagulls, and carrying sailboats, fishing boats, and one very brave (or possibly unhinged) kite surfer over its steady ripples and unpredictably turbulent waves. People flew traditional kites as well, chatted on benches, shared picnics on the lawn. Children laughed and squealed from the nautical-themed playground, and, from a private party inside the park's clubhouse, the buoyant beats of a live mariachi band lifted the spirits of all who wandered near the building. Being a Wednesday, the paths and park weren't overly crowded, and, after the sultry days of late, even the weather seemed to say, "Welcome. Your harbor experience has been customized precisely to your liking." The skies flaunted a shade bluer than blue; robust and fluffy clouds floated lazily above. Sunlight granted every watery reflection a stunning luminescence, while the temperature never surpassed seventy degrees. As we rambled, regular ocean breezes cooled, refreshed, and filled our senses with the briny air. Delicate sparrows chirped with the rushed excitement of the town gossips, while seagulls chittered on rooftops and screeched their distinctive warnings to any perceived interlopers. Waves periodically slapped against shoreline boulders, completing the familiar symphony of the sea. It was, in every way, a perfect day for adventure.
Despite her limited excursions into public places of late, Maisie was incredibly well behaved, never pulling toward other people or dogs, jumping, barking, or getting into anything she shouldn't. She was an angel from start to finish. The way her eyes lit up with curiosity at every new discovery enriched our own bayside experiences all the more as we circled the marina, cooled off on the boardwalk, soaked in the sights, sounds, and smells of the ocean, and rested, refueled, and rehydrated in the park. Maisie had exhibited considerable trepidation during her earliest outings years ago; following such a long period confined to our own property, we weren't sure what to expect. But, walking with her around the harbor, Dennie and I were thrilled to find our girl clearly engaged and genuinely enjoying herself. To our own surprise--and maybe even hers as well--Maisie was fully embracing the explorer life. We all were. And we can't wait to do it again...even if it means occasionally casting off the shackles of convention and becoming rogues, rebels. Pirates.