Right now we're about 60 miles off of Cape Hatteras on the border between North Carolina and Virginia. My old residence in Northern Virginia, the area which has been my home for most of my life, is just 275 to the north northeast.
In some ways, then, you could say I'm close to completing a circumnavigation of sorts of the globe, having moved to England a few years ago, then having continued on to the east on this boat to find myself back so close to home.
In truth, however, all these details of distance, time, and supposed accomplishments are meaningless to me. The world is my home and its contents, in both people and other natural beauties, are my rewards. The only accomplishments I concern myself with are whatever difference I make to those I meet.
On a lighter note, bored as we were drifting in a windless sea these last few days, when I started to give myself a haircut with the hair trimmer, someone asked if she could give me a mohawk and I conceded. It seemed fitting for New York. Truly now I do in fact look just like this:
=B^)
