Sometimes a Seaplane

Sometimes a seaplane — first a flyby, skimming the water, splashing down and buzzing toward shore, drifting up to the beach, engine down-throttled, propeller slowing, appearing to spin backwards, then stopping — awakens my memories of yearnings and curiosities yet unsated. So many adventures yet to live.

Long ago I told Susan that I wanted to fly, that I especially wanted to learn how to fly floatplanes. I also wanted to sail, if not around the world, then around parts of the world.

Though both notions seemed to intrigue her during the years when we were dating, I eventually discovered that she wasn’t keen on either idea. Fortunately, she’s come around somewhat on sailing. So I’ve shifted by enthusiasm to sailing. But every once in a while the urge surfaces. 

Sometimes a Seaplane, Haiku

Floatplane skims then lands
mid-lake midsummer mid-lunch,
taxis toward shore. 

Sometimes a seaplane buzzes Essex, and lands on the lake. I stop what I’m doing and listen. Watch. Like a young child. Dreaming.

Sometimes a seaplane beaches at the Old Dock Restaurant for lunch or dinner. Or the Westport Yacht Club. And my heart races. That visceral urge. Curiosity.

At this point, I realize that I’m more likely to fulfill the sailing dreams than the flying dreams. But persistent floatplane dreams periodically surface nevertheless.

Occasionally I fly a drone. And recently I have begun to explore kiteboarding, an intriguing hybrid of flying and sailing. A compelling compromise!

Still, sometimes a seaplane fuels fantasy and rekindles curiosity, reinvigorates dormant dreams of adventures yet unessayed…