Yesterday afternoon I stretched out in the cockpit of Daphne. My legs propped up on the aft cabin, my arm shading my eyes from the sun, and my gaze brushing across the pages of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. In the past year reading has taken on a new meaning for me.
No longer am I simply enjoying a story, being taken to another world, or learning a bit of history. Now, with every page, with every sentence, I look for a postcard phrase, a bit of ordinary language with rhythm and mystery. And when I find one, I’ll read it over and over. I’ll underline it, dog-ear the page, and occasionally note it on a scrap of paper to save for later reading, like a child saves the pepperoni off their pizza. The best is savored at the end of the meal. And I wonder, “how can I build a striking sentence out of ordinary words, a glittering castle out of limestone?”
A man rowed over and interrupted my thoughts to remind me that I might be doing something right. “Hey! I follow the adventures of Teresa and Daphne,” he shouted. He wasn’t the first blog reader that I have met who expressed gratitude for writing this blog.
During my travels Daphne has been recognized while docked in ports or tucked into tiny coves. She has been spotted from the tops of sky-rise office buildings or motor-boats racing by. I’ve accepted the generosity of others from across a table, through the mail, or via cyber-space, and I am grateful. It is moments like that, when I am reminded that there are many who read my story, that I am encouraged to write more, experience more, dream more, and be more.