The past two late afternoon we have sailed into two different beautiful anchorages – last night at Dover…
….and tonight we are lucky enough to have been lent a mooring in Copper Alley Bay…
On both occasions M and the Smalls have gone ashore and frolicked. On both occasions they have found such amazing and beautiful things that M has called me to tell me about them. Before they leave Bella Luna there is a special face that he wears after he hears me answer the question;
“I’m going to go ashore to explore. Do you want to come?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I’ll stay here.”
His eyes widen. He goggles. Shakes his head in a disbelieving fashion. Sometimes starts a sentence like, “Are you sure?”
… to which I respond gaily, “Yes – I’ll stay aboard.”
And he gets into the dinghy, still shaking his head. Presumably despairingly. He has a fundamental inability to understand why I would not want to go ashore somewhere new and exciting and find out all about it. Discover the locals, find the petrol station, eat windfall apples, chat to strangers…
I have always, to some degree, been this way. But having had children, one of my most favourite things has basically evaporated.
It is how I recharge. To be alone and not have anyones energy interfering with my own. I am unblocked. I tidy up. I write. I dance and wipe surfaces no one else will notice. M, on the other hand, is doing his version of the same thing. He gets to frolic in a new place, discover new wonders, chat to new people – all of this (I presume) recharges HIS batteries.
He just called me. The evening is so still, I could hear the Smalls playing at the shore. “Are you certain you don’t want me to come and get you?” he says. “It’s SO BEAUTIFUL here. You won’t believe it! There are heirloom apple trees growing along the shore. There are blackberries….”
“Great! Bring some back with you!”
The last sound I hear is him chewing a particularly crunchy sounding apple. And I couldn’t care less. My throat is sore, I’m full of dinner, the boat is empty of everyone except me. Right now, solitude is worth more to me than sunset-lit shorelines and heirloom apples. They can wait. If I can’t recharge my batteries, I won’t appreciate them anyway…
* The title refers to this…