The bay stretches forever. Usually the water is still, disturbed only by the pelicans landing to pass their day gliding along the surface. The dark wooden poles of the oyster leases stretch through the tranquility.

Whenever I pass here on my way to work, I wonder yet again: what am I doing? Why am I not out in the sun, enjoying the play of sunlight on the water?

Even as the dark clouds roll in on a gloomy day, or the rain sweeps across the water, the bay still beckons. Should I have time I pull over and stare over the water for a while. Aside from the peak hour cars zooming past me, there is usually no one else around. Perhaps a jogger, sometimes an elderly couple having a stroll.

This morning I had time to sit and spend a few minutes simply watching. Cars streamed along the road behind me, rushing not to be a few minutes late. How many actually saw the view? A sea plane took off as I sat there, skimming along the water before soaring into a 1950's movie. The fisherman here have the right idea, pottering around in their tinnies. (As they do the world over, although the boats might vary.) Sometimes they return with a boatload of fish, at other times none at all. Depends on how they’re biting.

Meanwhile too many sailboats sit idly on the water, their wires twanging as their owners are, like me, elsewhere.

A few day earlier, as I walked along the beach, I was joined by some whales who’d taken a break from their migration to frolic in the bay. There was an old whaling station near where I grew up, and seeing whales was then unheard of; now, each year, more and more humpbacks pass by our shores.

As I drive past the sparkling water of a morning on m way to work, I can’t help thinking I have my priorities all wrong. Time to reassess, and enjoy the beauties of the morning drive, the birds chasing one another through the trees, the sound of rain dancing across my roof.

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