Across the Strait of Georgia

I miss the ocean. I miss the sound of waves out my window and the silent presence of an infinity of water at my back door. I miss the familiar vibration of a boat’s hull slicing through calm seas, and the hum of engines, and the crackling of the radio. I miss looking up at the sky to anticipate nature’s moods and outrun squalls.

So I offered myself a boat ride. I hopped on the Tsawwassen – Swartz Bay ferry and went to Victoria.

Dures extrémités où je me vois réduis. **

 

[** Les Fourberies de Scapin. Molière]

 

Mais qu’allais-je faire dans cette galère ?