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Peristera - Nostalgia



End of october. Night watch. No moon, I lower the light on the plotter and my eyes can sense the horizon. We are rolling hysterically in the northeast swell. At one spot the contour of the horizon is sharper, a faint light is arising. I cannot know if it is a boat a few miles away, or a star, millions of miles away. From my bumpy position they look the same.

Contrast, december.
All seven of us sit silently in the cockpit, watching the red moon rising over black silk. She turns up, hesitating first, up down, up down. Then further up on the sky, in a steady pace, while loosing more and more of her reddish tone. The moon beam points at us, and we are grateful to live on a turning globe in space, and right now being out on the ocean with an endless horizon that lets us see this.

Linda and crew



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