Wendy and I spent last week aboard Holland America Line‘s M.S. Westerdam for a cruise of the eastern Caribbean. I plan to write a more comprehensive post about our adventures in the coming days, but this morning I find myself a bit overwhelmed, and buried underneath the piles of all that has been building up after completely unplugging from daily life for a week. So, to satiate the curiosity of family and friends who are wondering how our vacation went, I threw together this little three minute slideshow of our trip. Enjoy!
It was a gorgeous, full moon last night. The cool evening was calm and the lake was like a sheet of glass. After a wonderful, late dinner Wendy and I got in the boat, set the throttle to just above idle speed and took a slow moonlight cruise around the lake. We were the only boat on the lake. The moonlight illuminated the hills and the hundreds of dock lights decorated the shoreline in a romantic, blue string.
The seasons they are turnin’ and my sad heart is yearnin’
To hear again the songbird’s sweet melodious tone
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?The dusky light, the day is losing, Orchids, Poppies, Black-eyed Susan
The earth and sky that melts with flesh and bone
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?The air is thick and heavy all along the levy
Where the geese into the countryside have flown
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?Well, I’m preachin’ peace and harmony
The blessings of tranquility
Yet I know when the time is right to strike
I’ll take you cross the river dear
You’ve no need to linger here
I know the kinds of things you likeThe clouds are turnin’ crimson–the leaves fall from the limbs an’
The branches cast their shadows over stone
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?The boulevards of cypress trees, the masquerades of birds and bees
The petals, pink and white, the wind has blown
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?The trailing moss and mystic glow
Purple blossoms soft as snow
My tears keep flowing to the sea
Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief
It takes a thief to catch a thief
For whom does the bell toll for, love? It tolls for you and me
My pulse is runnin’ through my palm–the sharp hills are rising from
The yellow fields with twisted oaks that groan
Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?
– “Moonlight” by Bob Dylan
Photo by Tom Vander Well
