By Steve Fairbairn
"The willowy sway of the hands away"
And the water boiling aft,
The elastic spring, the steely fling
That drives the flying craft.
The steely spring and the musical ring
Of the blade with the biting grip,
The stretching draw of the bending oar
That rounds the turn with a whip.
The lazy float that controls the boat
And makes the swing quite true,
And gives that rest that the oarsman blest
As he drives the blade right through.
All through the swing he hears the boat sing
As she glides on her flying track,
And he gathers aft to strike the craft
With a ringing bell note crack.
From stretcher to oar with drive and draw,
He speeds the boat along.
All whalebone and steel and a willowy feel,
That is the oarsman's song.
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Wednesday started and ended chilly, but it was a gorgeous nearly-70-degree day in between. I chatted with two of my high school friends (plus Adam and Haley, who's the daughter of one of them) in the morning, did some work and had lunch, then watched the last three episodes of What If...?'s second season with Kristen. We walked to the beach during the beautiful afternoon and along the dock, where the turtles were out as well as half a dozen very chatty bald eagles.
When we got home, we saw the unfortunate ends of the Orioles and Mariners games, both of which came down to the last innings. Now we're watching The Boys in the Boat, a fairly formulaic sports script with a good cast that's set mostly in Seattle at the University of Washington though it filmed in Britain -- it's like every baseball movie I've ever seen but on the water, so it's scenic (and fun watching Penn get dissed as a school for rich little shits). Some of our local ducklings:
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