A Home for the Holidays

For years I looked for land near the sea, finding nothing from coast to coast to coast. Living on an island wasn’t enough. Little did I know that a sailboat was patiently waiting.

She is the second home I’ve bought myself, the first being the cheerful yellow and silver Tiny House on Wheels. But I couldn’t find suitable long-term parking. And Tiny was aptly named.

For my first Xmas on Habibi, I light candles and read love poetry. Outside, the laguna is dotted with boats, mast lights sparkling. Wind sings in the rigging, and swings us to and fro. Waves crash on the other side of the isthmus. Keening terns echo from nearby nests. Fish smack against the hull, loosening tasty barnacles, reminding me to eat dinner.

In the morning, the sun plays hide and seek behind the east hill before warming me up. A water-cooled engine splashes and thrums in the distance. A silent sailor eyes mooring lines, and, satisfied, returns below. Colorful sierras loom to the west, shifting purple-red-orange-gold as the sun rises. A breeze shimmers the water on the incoming tide. Every day is Xmas on Habibi.