It was cozy in glow of the oil lamp.
It made the house smell of the fragrance of honeysuckles.
It was a different story outdoors. It was dark.
The windy outer-bands of Tropical Storm Alberto trailed overhead as they swirled toward the ocean.
Each time the wind and rain picked-up I went to the window to check-on Shibumi.
If I could, I would have brought her inside.
But Shibumi was unphased by the weather. She rested happily on her dock.
Afterall, when we lived-aboard her, she was our shelter, our refuge from the storm.
It was she who brought us inside.
So I returned here to my desk and the warm, fragrant, glow of the oil lamp.

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