There Is Dirt Under My Fingernails

I have spent the last 10 years living on a sailboat.  While on the boat full-time I never felt the need to get my hands in the dirt.  I wasn't one of those cruisers that had a little herb garden on the deck or under the bimini.

Even while in the marina I never once felt the urge to help plant flowers or herbs.  I was content with my watery ways.

Now I have a very little piece of land in the desert and I want to plant everything.  Containers work well here.  But with every little flower planted I wonder, "How will I leave?  Who will water them?"  This can't be good.  Does this mean that my anchor is finding a new home?

I miss my boat and anchoring out and riding in the dinghy.  It is very strange to not be "there".  I find myself living through friend's Facebook posts and Blogs.  I dream about sailing and tasting salt in the air.   But in reality I damn the wind that is drying out my plants and scan the sky for any rain cloud.

Transition is hard.  But the flowers are beautiful.

First Rose

Rose Bloom

Blowing in the Wind