By Cait Collins
This is one of those days when writing does not compute. I am relaxing on the deck of the Mary Day, a beautiful windjammer. We are sailing Penobscot Bay in Maine. The fall colors are glorious. No phones, radios, television sets, no computers interrupt my communing with nature. I am at peace. My only thought at this moment is the promise of a fresh lobster dinner.
I’ll write something tomorrow.