Sitting on the cold metal seat of my skiff, moving with the boat's body as it pounds and skips over the ocean. The outboard hums. A gray horizon produces the illusion that the sea and sky are separate. Salty wind moves across my face, the blessing from a invisible hand. Zipping past inlets, winding through islands the seascape unfolds in front of me. Nearing floating birds they take to the air. Pulling away from the bow of my boat showing the superiority of their wings and muscles compared to the technology I can afford to buy. I get the sense there is something beneath me. Moments later a whale breaks the surface, blasting the remnants of held breath. My Father tells me to be careful.
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