The old me might have walked though this marina telling myself “someday” I too will own one of these mega yachts. Yet most sit and sit, never to be used, like a boneyard of status symbols. They float there, waiting, in hopes that someone will put them to good use. They are continually washed and polished in anticipation of an owner’s visit that rarely comes. Trophies of AccomplishmentĪmazingly, these trophies of accomplishment sit quietly at their docks, being attended to by their crews of one, two, or three, sometimes more. Silhouettes of palm trees pop up in the distance, and a couple of hundred mega yachts surround me in the marina that has been my home for the past 10 days during our Florida visit. These soft, billowing clouds line the edge of the still, mirror-like ocean and make their way up to the sky, which shows a greenish-yellow glow, something only an artist truly notices. Shadows of purple, the absence of light, make up their underside.
The horizon in the distance looks as though bags of large and small marshmallows have been dumped out in piles, while being lit from the side by an orange-pink light.
