It must be hard to sail a boat without wonder, <br />a pure, childlike wonder at small things: <br />the colours of shallows over mud-banks, the wings <br />of cormorants drying on spit-posts, crabs going under <br />rocks, or simply blue, spray and a sail full of air. <br />And it is impossible to sail without knowing <br />of breaking-strains, and that just so much wind <br />can capsize a dinghy, and that nowhere <br />for all the simple beauty and all the showing <br />of freedom, is there any smallest estuary you can blind <br />with non-science, or lie to. Therefore when <br />I see men sailing dinghies there seem to be <br />with them and whispering at the last edge of the sea <br />clear shadows of much earlier men.<br /><br />Hal Gibson Pateshall Colebatch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dinghy-sailing/
