Up on the lake, Labor Day is traditionally considered the end of the sailing season. Yet September is a great month for sailing. Not too hot. Wind. Beautiful fall foliage along the shore. Less crowded. All that. Labor Day itself can be depressing. Around 4 in the afternoon Port Clinton looks deserted, as if the Ohio National Guard at Camp Perry had lobbed a neutron bomb into downtown. The overcast skies contributed to the mood. Light and variable winds boxed the compass. Forewarned by previous experience I returned to port early (the wind picked up as I headed back) and left town before total depression set in. Back to Columbus in time to help with computer setup in the convent.
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"I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking."
John Masefield (1878 - 1967)
Lake Erie is an inland sea, so this verse seems apposite.
Why are the children of Illùvitar drawn to the sea?
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